Black, White, and Grey
by Isabella Raven
Summary: The trouble with making a bet with Draco Malfoy... is that he's not likely to loose. Hermione looses a bet, and regains her spine in the process. Trouble comes in the form of Narcissa Malfoy, and the world starts looking darker as summer comes in.
1. Set the World Tumbling

Disclaimer: I own no one, and nothing, in this fic, except for Merideth Grey, and Morigyn Black. 

Author's Note: This fic was begun before OotP came out, and was edited afterward to bring it closer to canon. It is mostly canon up to OotP, and may contain some spoilers for the book, so if you haven't finished it yet, wait until you have before you read this story. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 

**Set the World Tumbling**

~~~ ~~~ 

What if you found your black and white world suddenly shaded in grey? 

What would you think? 

What would you say? 

What would you do? 

I'm sitting in a small, cramped room that smells of fear and illness from the people here, perched at a writing desk with a candle sputtering in a pool of melted wax, threatening to go out, and plunge us into darkness. I won't dare light my wand for illumination after the candle dies, can't risk being traced, and found, not now. Not until I've finished recording the truth, recording the years. 

You're wondering who I am, who else is trapped here in this musty, damp cellar, God knows where. My name is Hermione Malfoy. I know it's not what you're expecting to read, not what you want to read, but it's the truth. With me are six other people, none of us in the best shape, all of us on the run from those who are winning right now. There were three sides, even after it all began, not the two everyone wanted to see. 

But my companions. There's Draco, my husband. He's leaning against some sacks of potatoes, I think. We haven't checked them to see what's in them, and we really don't care. Draco's asleep, his face relaxed as it never is when he's awake. Even now I can't read his expression, after years of being married. On his lap is our daughter, Elizabeth. She's only just turned seven, and she's seen war her entire life. She's anything but innocent, as I was at her age. She's asleep as well, curled up in Draco's lap, her head on his shoulder. Only in sleep do either of them regain a measure of innocence. 

I hear a dry, hacking cough behind me, and the rustle of cloth as people shift position. The one who coughed would be Tom Riddle, more commonly known as Lord Voldemort. He fell ill a week ago, while we were camped on the moors, watching Malfoy Manor burn to the ground. He insisted we keep running, until yesterday, when Min insisted we stop. He was too weak to countermand her. Min's his wife, the former Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. Minerva Riddle, now that there's no point in keeping her maiden name. Despite what some people say, she was never a spy. She refused to tell Tom about Dumbledore's plans and activities, even though he tried to convince her. Using various methods of persuasion. 

I glance up from the parchment to check on the other two. Sirius Black and Ginny Weasley. Not who you'd expect, no, but they're here as well. No, don't ask me how Sirius is alive, I don't really know, nor do I want to. He's not happy about having to trust Tom, or Draco. Or me, not now. Not anymore than Ginny is, but they don't have much choice. It was us, or the Ministry hounds, and we were apparently the better option. Sirius is glaring past me at Tom and Min, Ginny has her head on his shoulder, asleep. 

I know you're wondering why we're all here, and why none of us are dead yet. Why Draco and I are married, or why Tom and Minerva are as well. Why we're on the run, and who's chasing us. Why they're chasing us. It's a long story, if I have time to write it all, that begins in my sixth year. I will tell you what I remember, and I pray this gets into the hands of someone who will read it, and believe it, who is willing to spread the truth despite the Ministry and their lies. Hmm. Not the first time I've taken on the Ministry, though last time, I didn't feel this alone. 

~~~ ~~~ 

I peered into McGonagall's outer office, looking for McGonagall, a frown quickly coming to my face. I'd come to talk to her every Saturday afternoon this year, to discuss the week, and we'd always met in her outer office. She wasn't there, but I'd never known her to be late, so I slipped inside, heading for my favorite seat, until I saw the door to her private rooms open. She never left that door open, even the slight crack it was opened at the moment. 

There were voices coming from inside, low murmurs of sound with no distinguishable words. I crept forward, my curiosity in high gear. It was always one of my personality weaknesses, or strengths, depending on how you looked at it. I wanted to know everything I could, and right now, I wanted to know what was being said in there, and why McGonagall had left the door cracked open. 

I pressed against the cool stone of the wall, my ears straining to catch the words coming from the room. I nearly cursed when all I heard, still, was a wordless murmur, and wished for a moment that I had one of the Weasley twins' Extendable Ears. They would come in handy about now, but since I didn't have one, I would have to do this the old-fashioned way, and pray I didn't get caught. 

Slipping closer, I curled my fingers around the smooth wood of the door frame as I peered through, moving slowly and carefully as so not to be seen. The comforting scent of woodsmoke reached me, along with the flickering green light of the fire. McGongall was speaking to someone whose head floated in the flames. My eyes widened when I saw who it was, and kept widening at what was being said. 

"Tom Marvolo Riddle! I told you, I will not spy on Albus for you. Ever." Her voice was angry. "Now, I have to go. I'm supposed to be meeting a student shortly." 

"She can wait." The rasping voice belonged to the... thing in the flames on McGongall's hearth. "I need to know what the old man is up to now." 

"Absolutely not! I may have married you, but you are still acting like an adolescent fool, Tom. I choose the side that was doing the most good, with the fewest mistakes made, and you know that. Quit trying to convince me otherwise." 

"I still love you, Min." That drew a gasp from me, hearing something like that from Voldemort. And he used a nickname for McGonagall? This was weird. The sound had made both look to the door, fear in McGonagall's eyes, and anger in Voldemort's. Oh lovely. What was he going to do? I know, I was already an obvious target, as someone close to Harry, but this was just bad for everyone... 

"Miss Granger. How much did you hear?" McGonagall interrupted my thoughts, the fear audible in her voice as well, as she waved me in, indicating I should shut the door behind me. I could see her wand gripped tightly in her hand, and hoped that I could convince her it wasn't needed. How had she kept this a secret so long? Or did Dumbledore know? 

"Not much." It was the truth, though I'd heard enough to intrigue me, and confuse me. "Professor, what's going on?" 

McGonagall glanced at Voldemort, their eyes meeting, the question that flashed between them visible even to me. Did they tell me, or did McGongall erase my memory of what happened, and our usual Saturday meeting go as planned? 

"I give you my word I won't tell anyone what I saw, that not a word I hear will leave this room. I won't even tell Harry or Ron." Not that they'd believe me. Well, Harry might, but he was doing better at Occulmancy, and I doubt he'd know of this meeting through Voldemort. The Gryffindor head of house talking to Lord Voldemort, evil incarnate. Scolding him, if what I heard first was real. I wasn't sure I believed it myself, not yet. "Wizard's Oath." 

Something else passed between them, probably an answer to the question, though I wasn't sure what it was until McGongall nodded. Her wand tip touched mine after I drew it, and I could feel the tingle of the magical binding settle into my bones. The sensation made me shiver slightly. 

"It's a long story, but Tom can't talk long, so we'll make it short. Tom and I met on the train when we went to Hogwarts, and with my two friends, made an inseparable group. We stopped meeting where anyone could see us talking in our third year, even had a public fight to make people think we'd split up, to protect all of us." 

Voldemort took over, as McGonagall drew in a breath. It was rather surreal, him talking civilly to me, a Muggle-born witch who was his worst enemy's best friend. "Min married me shortly after graduation, though she retained her maiden name, because I wasn't willing to risk her, then." McGongall glared at him for this comment, and he raised an eyebrow. 

"We have a daughter. She's living in the United States, near where she was raised by a friend of mine. She still keeps in contact with us both, even has children of her own now. The oldest turns eleven in March, and she intends to send him here." McGonagall sighed. "I can't talk her out of it, and my grandson is likely to end up in Slytherin." 

I nodded. She was probably worried about playing favorites, and it would look very odd if her favorite student was a Slytherin. More than odd. Suspicious. I could understand why she wouldn't want that. 

"Min took the job of Transfiguration teacher to keep up appearen..." 

"TOM! I took this job because I'm good at it, and they needed a Transfiguration teacher, and you know that! Do not twist the truth around me." Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Voldemort, and mine widened when he nodded. One of the most powerful wizards in the world, and he let himself be scolded by an aging witch who was likely no match for him in a duel. Amazing. Surreal. 

"I have to go, Min." Voldemort's face winked out of the flames, which died down to embers a moment later, leaving me alone with Professor McGonagall, and a very large dose of reality to swallow. 

"You're married to Voldemort?" My voice was a nearly breathless squeak, and my knees gave out, fortunately landing me on a comfy seat behind me rather than the hard floor. I knew my eyes were probably wide as saucers, and I was trembling in reaction. 

Professor McGonagall got up, grabbing a decanter from the mantle, and two glasses from a glass-fronted cabinet. Pouring one half-full, she handed it to me before filling the other, and stoppering the decanter. I stared at her in surprise as she replaced the whisky on the mantle. 

"You need it." She took a sip of the alcohol as she sat in the other plump, over-stuffed chair that sat in front of the hearth. I liked her sitting room, with worn, comfortable furniture, panelled in warm wood, and with thick rugs covering the cold stone floor. In the corner was a desk similar to the one in her office, polished mahogany, with cherry and oak inlay. Very nice. 

I was babbling to myself, and took a gulp from my glass to steady my nerves. Suddenly, my mouth was on fire, and the drink burned all the way down. My eyes watered, and when I tried to breath, I coughed instead. Brilliant, Hermione! Gulp down a mouthful of what was likely Ogden's finest whisky. 

"Careful. Tis a wee bit strong." McGongall was nursing her drink, and now I had a clue as to why. It wasn't something meant to be drank with any speed. 

"How did you meet...?" I couldn't say his name right then. It was as if there was a blockage in my throat when I tried. 

"Meri, Ri, and I were looking for an empty compartment on the train our first year. He had the one closest to empty, so we joined him. No one else had wanted to sit in there with him." 

"Did your friends get sorted into Gryffindor with you?" My curiosity was back, between it and the whiskey defeating the specter of shock. Like I said, it can be one of my greatest strengths. 

"Nae. They were both sorted into Slytherin, like Tom." McGongall shrugged. "They're families were disapointed, but they dinnae care." She has a bit of a brogue when she's tipsy. Or was I tipsy and hearing things? 

"Tell me more about when you went to Hogwarts." Oh blessed - or is it cursed? - curiosity. "Could I have more to drink?" I needed to be a bit less sober to think about this. Or not think about this. Hmm. Was I actually planning on getting drunk? Had I hit my head... no. I'd been told too much, and it wasn't making sense. 

"Well, thae four of us were in trouble more often than not durin' first year. We'd sneak out tae meet after curfew, because we couldn't just all meet in the dorms... Not with me in Gryffindor. We learned the inside o' thae toilets right well." She smiled slightly, at the memory, I thought. "An' nae, ye mayn't have more o' me whisky. Tisn't good fer a young lass like ye." 

So much for not being sober enough to think. "Why are you still with..." I paused, then continued. Could not say his name. Why? "After all he's done? I mean, all the murdering and everything. How do you cope with it?" 

"I donnae always cope with it verra well. I love Tom, but sometimes he acts like he's still an angry boy. Him an' his followers, ruddy fools that they are, doin' more than they should." 

"More than they should? What do you mean?" 

"Thae Ministry is hiding what they're doin' ta thae wizarding world with their insistence on separation. It's killin' us off, slowly. O' course, Tom isn't doin' thae right thin' either. He's as much a ruddy fool as Fudge." She scowled into her glass. "E'en two hundred years ago we was doin' better than we are now. Tom do ha' a decent cause, you cannae deny tha', but...." She trailed off, taking another drink of her whiskey. 

I took a deep, calming, steadying breath myself, and held it. Then another. This was almost more than I could handle. I needed another drink, and wordlessly held out the empty glass in my hand. I could feel McGonagall's eyes on me a moment, then the rustle of cloth as she moved. A moment later, liquid splashed into my glass, golden sanity. 

Thank all the gods it was Saturday, and I didn't have class the next day, because we talked far into the night, sharing that decanter of liquid sanity. When she finally escorted me back, it was well past midnight, and we were both quite drunk, though she was far more sober than I. If she hadn't been, I doubted I'd have made it back in one piece. 

~~~ ~~~ 

I woke with all the demons of hell pounding on the inside of my skull the next morning, a wad of cotton stuffed in my mouth, and a stomach threatening rebellion. Dragging my eyes open, I moaned as a thousand shards of glass buried themselves into my brain, and squeezed them shut as I pulled my pillow over my head. 

"Good morning, Hermione!" 

I was going to kill that insufferable brat Pavarti for that sickeningly cheerful tone of voice. Just as soon as my head stopped pounding, and the world firmly anchored itself again, instead of spinning like a top. I raised my head just enough to administer my patented Death Glare when the pillow was dragged out of my grip, taking the efforts of both girls that were now grinning at me. 

"Late night, Herm?" She giggled again, the sound nauseating in the extreme. Why wasn't homicide an acceptable alternative, again? 

"You have to tell us all about him!" Great. Lavender too, and both were under the impression that I was with a guy the previous night. Saints and gods protect me, and keep my hands from winding around their too-cheerful necks, especially right then. 

"Like hell I do," I muttered, pulling the sheets over my head. Like hell. No way was I sharing what I learned last night with them, the rumour mongering little creeps. Nor was I about to share the secret of the liquid sanity. 

The sheet was ripped from from my hands, and yanked away, and I glared at Lavender. That had been the wrong thing to do, Brown. You signed your death warrant with that. 

It took me a whole five minutes to get them to leave. I don't think they knew I could curse at all, much less with such flair, eloquence, and creativity. Hmph. They should not have been so cheerful so bloody early in the morning when I had the mother of all hangovers. And that necessitated a visit to my least favorite professor. Not the most pleasant of ideas, especially when one's stomach was already threatening rebellion. 

He'd probably smirk in that supercilious fashion of his, the greasy-haired bastard. I didn't care. I just wanted rid of the blasted hangover. 

It didn't take me long to dress, though I did so without care for what I put on, so long as I was decently covered. I didn't know how many students wore their school robes on Sundays, but I didn't care. My motto, my mantra for that day. 

Lavender and Pavarti pointedly looked away as I crossed the common room. Fuck them. Who gave a damn about their shallow pursuits and lives, anyway? Not me. Maybe later, when I felt more like myself I could have cared, but certainly not at that moment. 

I stalked out of the common room, and down to the Potions dungeon. I could have found my way in my sleep, while hungover it wasn't so hard. Professor Snape was at his desk as I walked in, and looked up. Before I could say anything, he'd pointed at a small vial on the workbench nearest him. 

"I suggest anymore talks you have with Minerva are conducted sober. Especially about her past." He didn't quite glare at me, which made me choke on the potion as I gulped it down. That made him glare properly. 

Swallowing, I recorked the vial, feeling the potion work its magic on the hangover. "You know?" 

"When I see two giggling Gryffindors stumbling in the dark towards the tower, one of them my colleague, of course I know to have a hangover remedy ready!" I thought he was being purposely dense. 

"No, I mean about Professor McGonagall's past." 

He raised his head from grading papers again, one elegant black brow rising in sardonic amusement. "Of course. How else would I be able to keep Tom aware of her well-being when she can't talk to him herself?" 

I knew I was staring. I wanted more of the liquid sanity. Then again, considering the price, perhaps I did not. "You're on a first name basis?" 

"He trusts me to protect his wife." He returned to grading his papers, ignoring me again. I wondered if anyone had heard that conversation. But then again, the only people down here willingly on a Sunday, barring one insane Gryffindor, were Slytherins. Not likely to rat out their Head of House. I hoped. 

"I'd love to quiz you about it, Professor, but I really have to go!" He raised his head again to glare at me, as I began to back to the door. I needed to sort out my life, and pre-conceived notions. "Harry and Ron are probably worried." Probably frantic with the certainty I was dead, or more involved with a chess game, and more likely the latter. "None of this will get to anyone from me, I promise." Naturally. No one would have believed me even if I were inclined to tell. I wasn't stupid. 

He nodded in annoyance, his eyes narrowed to convince me to back away faster, out of the room. Right into the other person I didn't like dealing with. Blast Malfoy and his sneer. Especially the one that was on his face at that moment. 

"Hello, Granger. What is the Mudblood doing down here, on a bright Sunday morning?" His voice was a silky purr of menace. When had the slimy bastard learned that? It wasn't fair having two males capable of that tone of voice, simply not fair! 

"Sod off, Malfoy." I spun, trying to get away from him, and tripped. Why? I didn't know, nor did I know over what. All I knew was I tripped, and Malfoy caught me, instinctively I was sure, leaving me pressed neck to knee against a well-formed, and very male body. 

What the hell was I thinking?! This was Malfoy, for God's sake, my worst enemy, and a Slytherin! But it was a nice body, I was sure, under those robes, and he was handsome, I supposed.... Hermione Anne Granger! Why couldn't you get your wits together, for Pete's sake... 

He kissed me. There I was, thinking evil thoughts, and trying to get myself back in mental balance, then there were a pair of soft lips pressed against mine. So soft, so gentle. My mouth opened to let out a shriek, muffled though it might be, and his tongue invaded. 

Excuse me, Malfoy, but I thought we were enemies. That you hated Muggle-borns. So why were you kissing me? Had you lost your mind? Had I lost mine? I asked this because I found myself kissing him back. 

He pulled away, a strange look in his eyes. His arms were firmly wrapped around my waist, steadying me. "You... taste good." His voice was a confused murmur. I don't think he knew why he kissed my anymore than I did. 

He set me aside, on my feet, his expression closing. Oh well. Good riddance. I didn't like that other Draco... Wait a minute. When did he become Draco instead of Malfoy? Oh, bloody hell. I ran, my feet pounding on the stone all the way back up to my dorm, pausing only briefly at the portrait hole to gasp out the password, and dart in. 

My head was spinning worse than it had with the hangover. I hate having my world set spinning. Definitely not a sensation I'd enjoyed, or would wish to repeat. I buried my head beneath my pillow again, just as there was a knock on my door. 

"Hermione?" Great. That was Ginny. Lavender and Pavarti, or any of the older girls don't bother to knock, and the boys couldn't get to my dorm. 

"What?" I didn't want to deal with anyone that day. Not after that morning's encounters, especially not Ginny, or Harry, or Ron. 

"You want to talk about it?" 

I raised my head enough to glare half-heartedly at the door. Staying angry at her was impossible, not when she used that hurt-puppy voice that Harry taught her to use. "No." Still didn't make me want to talk about it. Any of it. Especially not that morning's events. Oh no, not those. 

"You sure? You're awfully cross this morning. I was just wondering if I could help." 

No, you couldn't help me sort out my life, Ginny. That was my job, and mine alone. "I just didn't get enough sleep. I'll be fine." 

"If you say so." She didn't sound convinced, but I heard her footsteps retreating back down the stairs. Good enough. My head flopped back onto my pillow, my thoughts racing. 

Ok. In the course of less than twenty-four hours, I'd met Voldemort in a fireplace, found out my favorite teacher was married to the aforementioned person, and discovered he doesn't really hate Muggle, or Mudbloods, I thought. Also, gotten drunk, had a civilized, albeit brief, conversation with Snape, cursed to make a sailor blush, been kissed by Draco Malfoy, and kissed said Slytherin back. 

So where did my life go from there? I thumped my head several times on the mattress, trying to sort things out. Ok. Go talk to someone. But who? McGongall said she'd be out that day, I thought she went to see Voldemort. Ew. Not an image my mind needed. I had to get my mind out of the gutter. 

Who did I talk to? I couldn't talk to Harry. He would go off the deep end, if he believed me. Oh, I didn't doubt he'd believe I got drunk, but I... Oh, there was that too. I promised not to tell Ron or Harry. Of course, Ron would have chosen to believe someone slipped me something, probably Malfoy. Ginny would tell Ron, so not her. Lavender and Pavarti are the people you talked to when you wanted something all over school, preferably in less than a day. 

No one in Gryffindor house would have believed me, and I doubted they'd keep it a secret if they did. So much for my own house. I didn't really know anyone in Ravenclaw, except Cho Chang. And she was Head Girl. Anything I told her would have gone straight to Dumbledore, and that's one person who really didn't need to find out about most of this if he didn't know already. Which also left him out. 

Hufflepuffs wouldn't help. They wouldn't understand the intricacies of the mess. And I didn't think any of the professors, with the exception of Snape, would take the situation seriously. No, correction. A couple of them might have, but they'd tell the Ministry. And Dumbledore. Lovely. I'd eliminated most of the school, with the exception of the people I didn't want to associate with. 

Now there was another question to answer. Why didn't I want to associate with anyone in Slytherin? I knew Malfoy was normally a slimy little git, but he was almost... pleasent earlier. Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode displayed the collective intelligent of a rock. I didn't know why anyone would want to associate with them. The first-years were all still uncertain and excited, like all first years. I didn't want to talk about this with the younger students, anyway. 

I certainly wasn't talking to Malfoy about this. He was part of my problem, and likely to laugh at the rest. Leaving seventh-year Slytherins or Snape. Didn't know the seventh years well enough to talk to them. So Snape. 

I dragged myself back out of my bed once again, and my room, ignoring the questioning looks from Harry and Ron as I crossed the common room. I had a lot to sort out, and they couldn't help. Oh, this was going to be embarressing. I would never live this down, _never_. Asking _Professor Snape_ for help. 

I raised my hand to knock on his office door, hoping he'd be there, and the door opened. Oh no. Damn you, Malfoy! Damn you! 

One blond eyebrow arched in amusement. "Well, Granger. Fancy seeing you down here. Thinking of turning into a bat like the rest of us?" Long story, having mostly to do with a first-year Hufflepuff last year and an ill-timed remark about Snape and Slytherins in general. 

"Not particularly, Malfoy. Though I might turn you into a bat." Then I'd be safe from you, and your too-bloody-good looks. 

He smirked, shaking his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven't the time today." He swept past me with an elegant bow before he strode off down the corridor. Damn him! He's too handsome for his own good, and he knows it. Not to mention too smooth, too graceful, and too charming. 

What was I thinking? Malfoy is not a good choice for a crush. Wait. A crush? Oh no, oh NO! I do not have a crush on Draco Malfoy, confirmed git and slimy bastard... 

"Are you going to stand out there all day, or did you have a reason for coming to bother me, Miss Granger?" Snape's voice snapped me out of my brooding, and I stepped into his office, closing the door behind me. 

"I need to talk to someone." I looked for a place to sit, and found none. Blast the man. 

"And so you decided to waste my time with your useless emotional prattle." His black eyes were glittering with annoyance, and that silky voice suggested he was close to loosing his temper. 

"It's not prattle!" My temper had already snapped thanks to Malfoy. "I can't talk about this to anyone who doesn't already know about most of what's sent my carefully arranged world tumbling. And I sure as hell can't talk to McGonagall if she's not here. Oh, and believe me, I'm certain she's not." I shuddered as Snape winced. "I don't want to think about that." 

Snape nodded agreement. "And?" 

"If I try to sort this out on my own, my thoughts just run in circles." 

He sighed, and I could see the annoyance had not faded. "Why, Miss Granger, are you determined to ruin my Sunday afternoon by making me your sounding board? I have neither the time, nor the patience to put up with you and your personal melodrama, even if I cared to try." 

Why didn't I listen to myself? Asking Snape for help is like trying to hug a porcupine. A very bad idea that generally got you hurt. "I was asking you for help because you're the only one I can ask for help!" Oh brilliant, Hermione. Admit to him that this is going to leave you very much in debt to him, because there was no one else to go to. He's a Slytherin! He'll use that against you! 

And there was that slightly sadistic smirk that told me he had read between the lines. Damn him. 

"So, Miss Granger." His voice was a silky purr of menace. "You need help?" 

~~~ ~~~ 

I spent my Sunday afternoon scrubbing out cauldrons, and thinking. Well, at least I had an excuse for being grumpy that morning. And I'd resolved a small part of my dilemma. Not much, but I had a start. And cauldrons make very good sounding boards. Brilliant acoustics. 

Ok, so McGonagall was married to Voldemort. Nothing I could do about that, so accept it and move on. Second item: Voldemort wasn't as evil as he's made out to be. Most of the Death Eaters, no exaggeration. That he wanted immortality, and could be a right idiot about it, given. But he didn't hate Muggles and Muggle-borns as much as the history books say. 

Well, the truth... He hated Muggles for most of his life. He slowly stopped hating them, and just felt a great antipathy for them. And hated thier influence on magical society. And disliked Muggle-borns intensely for corrupting the magical world. Hard to cope with that tangled mess, and I don't think that is the whole of the truth. I'll sort it out later. 

Third: Had a civilized conversation with Snape. But only one, and a very brief one at that. Must have been a fluke. Forget about it. Please, dear God, forget about it. That was enough to give me nightmares. 

Most disconcerting - was kissed by Malfoy, and enjoyed it. Even kissed him back. What was in the whiskey last night? Or did someone cast a spell on him, or me, or both? 

I nearly smacked my head on the cauldron as I sat back on my heels. I was clean, and now I was a mess. A much calmer mess, mind you, and one with a slightly clearer frame of mind. Ugh. Now I'll have to thank Snape for helping me sort out my thoughts, and clear my mind. Oh, joyful day. 

"Done, Miss Granger?" Snape had been watching me, after I'd cleaned the first two. Yelling at crud baked on in a Nevillesque fashion was good stress relief. 

"Finally. Can I leave now?" 

"Provided you aren't going to come back and disturb my day further." His expression was sour, and I wasn't in a much better mood. 

"I won't be back until Potions class on Tuesday." Oh, no way would I be back before I had to. I might run into Malfoy again, which was the one thing I didn't want to happen. 

"Then leave, Miss Granger." 

I don't think I'd ever moved that fast in my life, as a bolted for the Gryffindor tower once the cleaning supplies were put away. I needed a shower sooo bad. I didn't even know one could get that dirty. Ick. 

When I came out of my room, I had to suppress an annoyed groan. Harry and Ron were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, with concerned and expectant looks on their faces. Why, oh why, did I have to deal with them right then? 

"Where've you been, Hermione? We've been looking all over for you!" Ron had a habit of exaggerating at times. That was one of the more annoying times. 

"Obviously you haven't, because you didn't find me. If you're so eager to know, I had detention with Snape for being out after curfew last night." 

The instant looks of sympathy and pity nearly made me growl. These were the two I still had to resort into my new world view. Or outlook on life, or however you want to put it. I couldn't tell them what I knew, and they were going to figure out I was hiding something from them sooner or later. Hopefully later, rather than sooner. Damn it! I would probably loose my best friends over this. Lovely. Hmm, you know, I'd just noticed I'd cursed more in that twenty-four-hour period than I ever had before in my life. Fascinating. 

"I'll be back. I need to go talk to Professor McGongall." I headed for the portrait hole, Harry and Ron trailing after me like lost puppies. I hate it when they do that. 

"You talked to McGonagall yesterday, Hermione. And you didn't get back until after we'd gone up for the night." Ron gave me an accusing look to go with his comments, and I sighed internally. This would be difficult. 

"We hadn't finished talking, and I had nearly fallen asleep in her office. I decided to go to bed, but I promised I'd be back today to finish our conversation. Which I've been unable to do because Snape caught me out after curfew, and I received detention." I smiled at them, trying not to snarl. "I'll be fine. There's class tomorrow, so I won't be late getting back today." 

Harry gave me a skeptical look, but shrugged. "Whatever you say, Hermione. Just... If you need help, you always have us to talk to." 

Thank you Harry! Just one small problem. I promised not to tell you. Or Ron. So there goes that brilliant idea. Too bad. 

"I know you are, Harry." I smiled again, before ducking out of the common room, suppressing the urge to run all the way to McGonagall's office. I wanted to know more. About the other two women she'd mentioned, about the past that wasn't in the history books - the why. History so often tells us the where, the how, and the when, and sometimes the who, but it rarely tells us why people reacted as they did. I wanted to know the why behind Voldemort. You could call it the curse of my curiosity. 


	2. An Unexpected Conversation

**An Unexpected Conversation**

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 

Or the blessing. That may have been what saved my life. It certainly changed it again. It drove me away from my old friends, and into the arms of new ones. I spent that evening talking to Minerva, both of us studiously avoiding the decanter on the shelf. It was after curfew when I returned, with Minerva escorting me. 

Harry and Ron were disappointed, but that wasn't the last time. It only got worse, as I spent more time talking to Minerva, and Severus - though I can't say those conversations were all that pleasant. He was always, and still is, as far as I am aware, a very abrasive personality. I do wonder, sometimes, what has happened to him, but that is never a thought for long. Of course, Ron and Harry never did understand why I was avoiding them more and more. 

Oh, I think Harry suspected I wasn't telling the truth about why, and I could see he was hurt by it. But what was I going to do? I couldn't tell him, I'd given my word I would not, and I won't go back on it. Even though Draco says that's silly, and it can get you hurt. Hmph. My husband is in need of a moral compass, often, and I appear to be it. 

But of course, it wasn't like that then. And he's not the only one who needed someone to set them straight every so often. Perhaps that's why so many of the most powerful Slytherin alumni end up with a Gryffindor alumni for a spouse. It's very odd. Not so odd as that one Saturday in November, just after Halloween, I'll grant you, but still odd in it's own right. Speaking of that Saturday, it was the first time I met Tom face to face. 

~~~ ~~~ 

"Tom wants to meet you." Professor McGongall had a nervous expression on her face, not one I was used to. "Severus is to take you to a private meeting of the Inner Circle this weekend. I can't be there, unfortunately, with the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match. I'll be noticed if I'm not there." 

I blinked, surprised, as I stopped just inside her sitting room. I had not been expecting that. "He... wants to meet me?" My voice was a squeak, with my throat dry as cotton. "For what?" 

"I'm not certain. I know he won't kill you. He's neither stupid, nor suicidal." She paused. "I should tell you who is in the Inner Circle, so you know who will be there." 

I nodded, sitting down as she did, knowing this might not be the most pleasant of conversations. "Just tell me Draco isn't going to be there." 

McGongall shook her head. "Unless Tom asked Severus to bring him as well, and I certainly didn't hear him mentioned. Though Lucius will be there, I warn you. He' not always a conceited snob, but when it comes to Muggle-borns..." She shrugged. "I am not certain it's conscious anymore. Severus will be there, of course. Meri and Ri, Madame Grey, and Lady Black to you, for now, will be there, they always are. The Baron, Henri Merdeux, is also always in attendance." 

Baron Henri Merdeux had featured in her stories of her school days. He had been three years older than her, and in Slytherin, but when he was prefect, he'd indulged her and her friends the best he could. 

"No one else?" I could deal with those five. And Voldemort, of course. I wouldn't panic. Not enough people to panic. At least not while I was there. Perhaps before, like now? Saturday was tomorrow. I'd be meeting Voldemort in the flesh tomorrow. Harry and Ron would kill me if they found out. Especially since I wouldn't tell them, and bring them along so Harry could kill him. 

"Not likely. Unless Henri brings his son and daughter-in-law with him this time, Edward and Tasia. Or Narcissa may come, though she prefers not to go." McGonagall smiled slightly. "She and Henri get along like oil and water, most of the time." 

Ok. As many as eight people besides myself. I could handle that. 

Who was I kidding? That many Death Eaters in one place, at least one of which I was almost certain would kill me given half a chance? And no way to escape if Snape wouldn't Apparate me out of there, or there was a port-key? I was doomed! 

McGonagall was watching me, and she must have been able to tell what at least some of my thoughts were. "Tom won't let them hurt you. He's still fond of keeping in my good graces these days. If he doesn't, he often finds every other female who knows him ignoring him, or outright against him. Even Nagini." 

I smiled slightly at that. Voldemort was under the thumb of a woman. Well, at least on some matters. She couldn't control him completely, or he never would have become the monster he was. 

"You should return to your dorm for the night. You are going to be waking up very early to leave without anyone seeing." She stood, herding me towards the door. 

I nodded. "Good night, Professor." 

~~~ ~~~ 

When she said early, I hadn't expected her to mean three bloody am! I hurried, still yawning, behind Professor Snape towards the Dark Forest, a cloak pulled tightly around me. It was a crisp, clear, cold night, beautiful weather for early November. The smell of snow was on the air as well, though I hoped it would hold off until after we got back that night, or perhaps early tomorrow morning. 

Snape stopped, his hand reaching out to steady me as I managed to trip over a tree toot in the dark. There was an odd piece of stone on the ground in front of us, shaped like... oh, bloody hell! That wasn't a rock. That was a human skull. Someone had a morbid sense of humour. 

"That's the port-key. Henri's making, if I'm not mistaken. The Baron has an... odd sense of humour." His lips twisted in a wryly amused smile, and I shook my head. We reached out to grip the skull in unison, the familiar tug of the port-key trying to turn my stomach inside out fading quickly once we'd arrived. We were outside what appeared to be a dark, rather large, manor house. 

A moment later, the door opened, spilling out a pale silvery light that revealed a slightly plump woman with grey hair and a warm smile on her face. She must be Merideth Grey, from the descriptions McGonagall's given me. "Oh, come in, come in. You must be cold, and still tired, my dear girl. Oh, Severus, don't just stand there, get yourself inside, and you too, my dear girl. Min has spoken so favorably of you, of course. You must be her favorite student, not that she'd admit to such of course. Oh, we do have a room upstairs for you to sleep in, you must be exhausted, you dear thing." 

Of course, she did mention that this woman would be an interesting person to meet. My eyebrows were threatening to merge with my hairline at that point, and I could see Snape shake his head in a long-suffering gesture out of the corner of my eye. "Thank you, Madame Grey." 

"Now, now, you must call me Meri. I feel as if I know you already, with everything Min's told us. And don't shake your head at me, Severus Snape. Oh, off with you, you great bat. Shoo!" She waved her hands at him, and he went with nothing more than a murmur of acquiescence. Amazing. "Of course, you weren't the only student she spoke of, but I've already met young Draco, and Ri's nephew speaks constantly of his godson, now that he is lucid again." She kept up a continuous flow of chatter as she took me upstairs to a plush room decorated in black and crimson. The wide bed was covered with a thick feather mattress and red silk sheets, with a soft black coverlet over top it all - and that was only one piece of the furniture in the room. My jaw dropped, and Meri smiled. 

"Nice, isn't it? Oh, I do hope you sleep well. I'll come to get you for breakfast, everyone is looking forward to meeting you in the morning." She shut the door behind her, leaving me alone in the opulent room. I found that even there, it didn't take me long to succumb to sleep. 

~~~ ~~~ 

I woke with a start, momentarily disoriented by my surroundings until I remembered the very early departure from Hogwarts and the meeting that day. That thought tied my stomach in knots as I got up, reaching for where I'd hung my robes last night, only to find them missing. What on God's green earth was I going to wear is they'd made off with my robes? 

I had my answer a moment later as Merideth bustled in, her arms full of cloth which she laid on the bed, flicking her wand at the door to close it. "A bonny morning to you! Did you sleep all right? Oh, and Ri and I decided to stock your wardrobe. I dare say you haven't had much chance to dress yourself up at school, and you might as well have the chance today. I brought you some robes from Sephone, just for today, since we shall have to get you better robes later, of course, if we are to spoil you properly. She's never worn them, the sweet girl, and is unlikely to wear them. You and her are of an age and a height, so there shouldn't be much trouble with these fitting, or being too girlish for you." 

My expression must have shown my surprise... or a bit of resentment. They were giving me cast-offs? Someone else's clothing? I would admit, was a new concept, when applied to myself. As an only child, I always had new clothes, never second-hand. 

"Oh, don't worry over-much, my dear. They're not used, you understand, the girl is quite the spoiled girl, delightful, though. She doesn't wear half the robes in her wardrobe. Now, let's see which of these suits you best." 

I must admit, I had fun. Most of the robes were dress robes, though... I'd not really paid attention to wizarding fashion before, but these were all at the height of the current fashion then. Not to mention worth far more than I could afford. 

We finally decided on a deep burgundy outfit with a fitted bodice and full skirt. It had a distinctly Victorian feel to it, but the whole wizarding world had a distinctly Victorian fell to it, after all. An unwillingness to change, I always supposed. 

"Now we'll just put your hair up, in a simple twist, I think, that will make you look elegant." She beamed at me as she used her wand to get my hair to behave as she wanted it to. 

"Why are you doing this? I mean, I enjoy it, of course, but..." I shrugged, not wanting to insult her, but not certain of what was going on. 

"Oh, my dear young lady! I have not had anyone to really fuss over since Min accepted the position at Hogwarts. Ri says I can't help but fuss over people, though she used to encourage me to get married, and have a few children to fuss over." Min smiled. "You don't mind it, though, do you?" 

I shook my head. "No. I'm just not used to it from anyone but my parents... and they don't fuss as much over me as they used to." 

Meri smiled again as she rearranged my hair, still not quite satisfied with the effect she was getting. "I remember my parents fussed more over Cynthia then they did over me. She was my little sister, the baby of my siblings, and an absolute doll. Of course, once she had that sweet babe... Oh, it was like watching Min with her little girl, before she and Tom sent the darling off to Bridget's." Her chatter was a constant flow, comforting, really, in the end. Like grandmum, when she visited. Meri reminded me of her. Tiny , grey, and eccentric, but in a good way. Not at all what one expects a Death Eater in Voldemort's Inner Circle to be like. Harry and Ron would never believe it, if they saw it. Or heard, which they won't. Not from me. 

"Now, off to breakfast. I do hope you're hungry, my dear. Ri is such an excellent cook, when one can convince her to enter the kitchen." Meri hooked her arm in mine, and guided me down to a large dining room, with beautiful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, soft rugs on the floor, and a heavy oak table. The walls were covered with a dark, emerald green damask wall paper, and the hearth was lovely black marble, a fire burning on it to remove the chill from the room. 

And at the table sat the Inner Circle... and Voldemort. All eyes fixed on Meri and me as we entered, and I began to feel nervous. Not that one wouldn't feel nervous with these people the first time one met them. It was easy to pick out Malfoy senior, a slight sneer curling his upper lip, the platinum blond hair, and the pale grey eyes. And Voldemort... well, he's impossible to miss. I still wondered how Professor McGonagall looked past that, but she'd been in love with him since their school days... 

There was an elegant man with broad shoulders and perfectly tailored robes. Silver heavily streaked his black hair, and he had crows feet around his eyes, but those were the only signs he was aging. He looked to be the oldest one there, so I thought he was the Baron Merdeux. He smiled with genuine warmth at me, and stood to pull out the empty seat next to him. 

"Good morning, Miss Granger." He was the first to speak. 

"Morning, Meri, Miss Granger." That came from the woman sitting on the other side of Baron Merdeux from the empty chair. Her thick hair was still jet black, with only a few strands of silver, pulled up and back in a neat roll. She was dressed in sapphire robes that emphasized her blue eyes, gleaming with intensity. "You will call me, Ri, of course, as everyone else does." 

"Yes, of course." I was looking at the others at the table - having second thoughts about the whole mess when it was well and away too late for that. The seat at the end of the table was empty; that would be Professor McGonagall's seat if she had been there. Professor Snape sat on one side of it, and a younger version of the Baron Merdeux sat on the other. 

A woman with rich, chestnut brown hair sat beside Snape, and a young woman about my age sat across from her. They must be Edward Merdeux, his wife Tasia, and the girl had to be Sephone, their daughter. She twisted in her seat to look at me better as I still hesitated to sit, giving me a critical once over. 

"That looks better on you than it would on me." She grimaced. "I'm not sure why I bought it in the first place." The expression faded, replaced by a brilliant smile. "Keep it. I'm glad someone can pull it off." 

I smiled back as I slid into the chair still held by Baron Merdeux, Sephone's words putting me more at ease than anyone else there. Perhaps it was the fact she was just another girl like Lavender and Pavarti, or so she gave the impression of being. Servants, human servants, appeared at my elbow a moment later as if conjured, offering me all sorts of food, all of it looking and smelling excellent. 

I watched the others as I ate, silence reigning for a brief time. Narcissa Malfoy sat across from me, and beside her was Lucius... he was stuck between her and Meri, and I could see the two exchange a glance that said clearly that he'd be in a great deal of pain if he made trouble. And Meri and Ri were sitting on either side of Voldemort. 

"You appear to be taking this all quite well, Miss Granger. I'm surprised, since I am under the impression you originally thought Uncle Tom was the equivalant of evil incarnate?" Mrs. Merdeux spoke, looking up from her food with a curious expression. 

I tilted my head as I thought a moment. "I'm not sure I am taking this as well as I appear to be, Mrs. Merdeux. I've been talking to Professor McGonagall for the last month, and she's given me a different impression of Voldemort than history or even most people do. And last night, I was rather tired, and in no shape to have second thoughts - if I'd wanted to entertain them. And it is easier to think of him not quite as bad as he's painted than, say, to cope with the idea that Professor Snape isn't..." I trailed off, not certain of repeating some of the choice names I'd come up with - or my friends had - over the last five years. 

An eyebrow quirked upward on Professor Snape's expression. "Not a greasy git?" 

"Well... that's one of the less-than-flattering names used in the Gryffindor common room, professor." I looked down at my plate, too embarrassed to admit my part in the name calling. 

"And why is it easier to re-evaluate your opinion of me than of Severus?" 

I tensed when Voldemort spoke, then forced myself to relax. "I've had personal experience with how vicious and nasty Professor Snape can be - he's been my potions professor for five years before the beginning of this year. It's difficult to think of someone who's always been mean and nasty, in one's personal experience, as something other than a cold-hearted bastard with no conscious - and possibly no soul." I wondered how bad life in potions class would be after I got back, considering how frank I was being. "On the other hand, I've not really had to deal with you personally, sir, though there were some isolated incidences where I had to deal with you indirectly. I did have my doubts, and still do, but character flaws are to be expected in anyone." 

"Are you quite sure you don't belong in Ravenclaw, my dear? You sound more like the Ravenclaws I knew in school than any Gryffindor. Except Min. Hmm. You're very much like her in some ways." Meri tilted her head, not quite smiling. "Not everyone is able to face the truth, and accept it." 

"I know." I didn't want to mention Harry or Ron, or the inability I perceived on their part to accept the truth, as odd as it was. 

"Oh, do you know Harry Potter?" Sephone spoke with an intense light of curiosity in her eyes, despite the warning looks from everyone else at the table. "You're in the same year, the same house. Are you friends?" 

"We were friends. I don't know if I can talk to him anymore." I spoke softly, and rapidly, not wanting those looks tossed in my direction. 

"Oh." The table fell silent for a moment, the only sound that of clinking utensils. I noticed Mrs. Malfoy elbow her husband in the ribs the second time he opened his mouth to speak, probably to say something rude. The first time she kicked him, I thought, considering the expression of pain that crossed his face. 

She was the one to break the silence, as well. "You do know Draco, of course?" It was a question she wasn't expecting me to answer, as she continued to speak without pausing for a reply. "I don't imagine you've gotten along in the past, as is to be expected, but perhaps you might speak with him about what is troubling you." Mrs. Malfoy smiled, spearing a piece of sausage as she waited for my reply. Amazing what you notice when you want desperately to avoid replying. 

"Perhaps. I doubt he could help me with my current problem, though." Considering he was the problem, it was rather certain he wouldn't have been able to help. 

"Oh? Boy trouble?" Mrs. Malfoy smiled knowingly. Far too knowingly. 

I bit my lip, nodding. Hopefully I'd be able to avoid the subject all together after this. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy." 

"Call me Narcissa. In public we may appear to be enemies, of a sort, but here we are all friends, hmm?" 

"Yes, M... Narcissa." It would take some time and effort to remember that. I still wasn't comfortable here, in the midst of Voldemort's Inner Circle, supposed to be the worst of the worst. 

After breakfast, Meri and Ri told Voldemort, despite his ominous grumblings, that the meeting would have to wait, and dragged every female present upstairs to a parlor decorated in navy blue and cream. They took the wing-back chairs next to the fireplace, two queens presiding over their court as we settled in various seats around them. 

"That man still hasn't figured out he can't have one of his precious meetings until the ladies have talked, has he, Meri?" Ri shook her head, an amused smile on her face. "Can't have the men taking the bit and running away with it. Look where that got us in the first place!" 

Mrs. Malfoy shrugged. "They'll counter-scheme against us downstairs, and when the actual meeting happens, nothing will get done. We fight them to a standstill only." 

"True, Cissa, but sometimes things do get done, and we can prevent excessive violence in the execution of plans." 

"True enough, I will grant you." Mrs. Malfoy paused. "Hermione, you said at breakfast you were having boy trouble. Would it have anything to do with an incident outside Severus's classroom about a month ago?" 

As she spoke, a feeling of dread had begun to churn in the pit of my stomach, and I gulped, wondering if I could still deflect this line of conversation. 

"Oh, my dear, don't worry about talking about Draco to me. He can be so much his father's son at time. And I don't always have the most flattering opinion of either of them." She smiled at me. "And I'd like to hear the other side of the story. That son of mine is rarely communicative these days. Lucius's influence, I'm very much afraid." 

"Well..." I paused a long moment, thinking. How little could I tell them about what had happened, and get away with it? "I went down to get a hangover remedy from Professor Snape, and he was being actually civilized, so I was backing out of the classroom, in case he decided to do something like curse me..." 

Mrs. Merdeux interrupted me. "Severus never was the politest boy. In fact, I think the only boys less civilized than he were those damned Marauders." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, my dear, do go on." 

It was nice to know I wasn't alone here in my opinion on Snape. "I ran into Ma... Draco, we exchanged insults, and I tripped when I turned to leave. He caught me, and I..." I was turning red, and I trailed off, embarrassed. The knowing looks around me told me I didn't have to say anything, they were pretty well aware of what was probably happening about then. "I was trying to get myself back together when he kissed me." I was squirming, and promised myself I'd exact a painful revenge on Malfoy for this humiliation. "I kissed him back, he pulled back, said I tasted good, put me down, and I left." The last came out in a rush, trying to avoid telling any details. Oh, Lord, why did I tell them that much, anyway? 

"Hmm. Not much more informative than that note I received from Draco. ÔKissed the Mudblood. Liked it. Confused.' That was it." Mrs. Malfoy looked as if she wanted to strangle her son. The feeling was mutual. 

"Well, there's very little that can be done unless the two spend more time together. Either they'll decide they still hate each other, and the kiss was a fluke due to hormones, or they'll become... friends, at least, one hopes. Not necessarily anything more, mind you, of course, but friends would be nice for all of us." 

Correction. I wanted to strangle Meri. I didn't want to spend more time with Draco-bloody-Malfoy! The boy was a complete prat. 

"Merideth Joanne Grey!" Ri was staring at Meri. "From what I've heard, as little as it may be, they are likely to kill each other inside of a week if forced to remain in each other's company that long." If not faster, as I well knew. 

"Oh, but I have the perfect opportunity for them to spend some time together, without being too close. Hermione can come to spend Christmas holiday at the Manor, while my niece and nephew are over. Lisette has been asking me to invite some girls her age over for the holiday, other than Sephone, and there aren't any others her age that I would allow in the Manor. Certainly not that little creature Parkinson." Mrs. Malfoy sniffed primly at the thought, though there was a smile on her face, the bedamned interfering witch. "And I can introduce you around to the families, not too many, mind you, but some of them, and you may even find some of the young men are tolerable. Not all, of course, and you have..." 

"Wait one minute." I interrupted her despite the glare that was subsequently sent in my direction, my expression clearly mutinous. I did not need someone running my life. "I appreciate the invitation, and I will consider it. But as I am likely to have higher priorities over the holidays, I am unlikely to be able to accept it." 

Mrs. Malfoy smiled tightly, and nodded. I doubted she liked being told no. Too bad. 

"Well, we can talk about that later. It is time to go back downstairs so that the men don't plan everything behind our backs." Ri stood, the others, except Sephone, following suit. "Ah, and Hermione, dear, we shall have to leave you up here with Sephone for now." I blinked in surprise as they left. I had thought the whole reason for me coming had been to meet them and Voldemort, and for more than just over breakfast. 

Sephone shook her head when the door closed behind them. "Don't worry about being left up here. No one who isn't initiated is allowed into the meetings, unless it is especially for an initiation. They'll spend a couple hours talking before threats start to fly, and Uncle Tom boots them all out for the afternoon. Then he'll want to see you, and talk to you, and you'll probably get an invitation to join the cause, at least. Like Aunt Alice and Uncle Frank." She shrugged. 

"What's the difference between joining the cause, and joining the Death Eaters?" Her phrasing had been curious. That, and I wondered why she had referred to the Longbottoms as relatives - though it was possible they were godparents, considering she also called Voldemort "uncle". 

"Oh, that's easy. Death Eaters have Uncle Tom's seal branded on their arms. Really silly, if you ask me. Anyone who's merely joined the cause just has a ring with his seal on the inside - a plain silver band. Aunt Alice and Uncle Frank had the ring, though I've always wondered what they did for Uncle Tom - since they were nominally working for the Ministry, and probably for Dumbledore to. That maybe why Aunt Bella thought they knew where Uncle Tom had gone when Harry Potter knocked him for a loop." Sephone paused, a speculative look on her face. "Oh, I bet that was interesting when Aunt Cissa and mum heard that. Aunt Alice and them, and Aunt Bella were all friends at Hogwarts, even though they were in different houses. They grew up together, practically." 

I raised an eyebrow, perfectly willing to listen, and learn more. Letting people chatter was a wonderful way of getting information. "Your Aunt Alice and Uncle Frank, what was their surname?" 

"Oh, Longbottom, of course. They had a son, Neville, but you knew that, didn't you? He's probably in Gryffindor, just like they were. Mum was in Ravenclaw, and Aunt Cissa and Aunt Bella were in Slytherin, like da and Uncle Lucius. Da was in the same year as Uncle Lucius, and mum and Aunt Cissa were the same year, too, with Uncle Frank." She answered my questions with more information than I needed, and I was content to let her do so. 

~~~ ~~~ 

Of course, as I walked downstairs a few hours later to meet Tom RIddle, Lord Voldemort, face to face, I realized there was an excellent underhanded reason to have her tell me so much - and I suspected she had been told to chatter. If I told anyone what I knew, I'd have to say where I heard it, and I would land in as much trouble as them. Right. Reason number one never to trust a Slytherin, and never take them at face value. Whatever they're doing rarely, if ever, has a simple, selfless reason behind it. Normally, in fact, it is quite the opposite. 

I paused nervously at the door to the study, smoothing my robes. Dear Lord, I was acting like Lavender or Pavarti on a first date. Oh, ick, not something to compare to... 

"I don't bite, you know." There was a dry, gravelly chuckle from inside the study, and the rustle of movement. "And Nagini won't bite unless I tell her to." 

Nice way to reassure a girl. I stepped in, still as nervous as I had been, and looked around a moment. The walls were panelled with dark wood, the floor covered with in warm Persian carpets. Near the marble fireplace was a circle of chairs, only one occupied. 

"Sit down." I could hear the attempt not to order, but invite, but he didn't quite succeed. At least he tried. 

I took the seat across the circle from him, facing him. I knew he'd been a handsome man once - McGonagall had shown me some pictures from when they had been younger - but now he was... ugly was a charitable term to use. 

He watched me as I watched him, both of us trying to scrutinize the other for signs of danger - and weakness, in his case. Not a very effective conversation starter. 

"I believe I am to blame for the rift between you and Potter, am I not?" He raised an eyebrow, and I nodded. 

"Indirectly. I can't talk to him or Ron about this, even if I hadn't promised I wouldn't. They'd never believe me, or if they did, they'd want to know why I didn't turn all of you over to Dumbledore or the Ministry." 

"Why don't you?" 

"Turn you over? Because that would involve turning over one of my professors, and my head of house, and I couldn't deal well with the guilt. And because not everyone here is what the media portrays you as. Meri wouldn't be able to seriously harm someone without a very good reason to do so, and she wouldn't last five minutes in Azkaban. And Sephone is no older than I am - what could she have done that would warrant spending her life in any kind of prison? And no has given me a reason to, besides." 

"For most people, who we are would be enough reason to turn us all over to the Ministry." 

"Perhaps." I leaned forward, a frown on my face. "But if you were what everyone else I've talked to thinks you are, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I would be dead, if I'd been brought here at all." 

Voldemort chuckled, the dry, rasping sound sending shivers down my spine. He was laughing at me! The rotten bastard was laughing at me. 

"What do you find so funny?" I forgot the fact I was talking to a man supposed to be evil incarnate, that he could kill me without a twinge of guilt. All I cared was someone was laughing at me, and I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why. 

I glared at him, and he laughed harder. Blast him, this was not amusing! I rolled my eyes, and waited until his laughter had subsided before raising my eyebrow in question. 

"Well?" 

He smiled, leaning back to steeple his fingers as he watched me. "Very few people would have the courage to speak like that to me, much less question me about my reaction afterward. Even my followers aren't that brave. Or perhaps foolhardy." 

"Am I?" His response hadn't soothed my temper any. "I haven't become who I am by running away from people or situations. Running doesn't do you any good. You just die tired." I shrugged, my eyes still blazing with emotion. Sometimes a temper isn't a good thing to have, but I wasn't sure that this was one of those times it would be a bad thing. "I'd rather meet Death on my feet, on my own terms. Or Fate, or whatever you want to call it." 

"A sentiment I can appreciate." He paused, watching me again. What he was looking for, I'd love to have known, but he merely let the silence stretch on, becoming uncomfortable. 

"Why did you agree to come?" His voice was loud in the silence, and I jumped, startled. 

I didn't know why I'd agreed to go. Why I'd let myself be woken at an ungodly hour of the morning to have breakfast with the most notorious wizards and witches in the world, sit with a chatterbox for four hours, then have a calm, rational, civilized conversation with the world's most evil wizard. 

"Well?" He used my earlier question, alone with a raised eyebrow. He had a sardonic sense of humour, he did. 

"I don't know." 

"Because you were told to come, and were expected to be here?" 

"No. If I hadn't wanted to come, I'd not have come." 

"You wanted to come." 

"Yes. I don't know why, and I am quite certainly crazy for wanting to, as just about anyone would tell me. But yes, I wanted to come." God knows why. The man sitting across from me was supposed to be evil incarnate, as I kept reminding myself. But he was being polite, civil, and courteous to me, a Muggle-born witch, with the dubious distinctions of being Harry Potter's friend, and being in Gryffindor. All right, yes, the hat said I'd do almost as well in Ravenclaw, with my thirst for knowledge, but I had a far greater dose of courage than it had seen in any of the Ravenclaws in my year, so I went to Gryffindor. Why I was thinking about that at that moment, I don't know, but I was interrupted by Voldemort speaking again. 

"Are you afraid?" 

Why that question? It had a bloody obvious answer. I had to answer it anyway, as I would rather have not found out what he would do if I didn't. "Scared out of my wits when I was told you wanted to meet me, yes. Too tired to be frightened when I arrived. Right now? Just afraid I'll wake up, and this will all be a dream and you really are the evil, vicious, sadistic person you're made out to be." 

A wry smile played at the corners of his mouth. "You're not afraid of me?" 

"Not particularly, no. Scared of Snape, yes. He's not who I thought he was, and now I'm afraid he'll revert to a greasy git. Terrified of Filch, the caretaker at the school, but everyone is, I think. But you? You puzzle me, and make me nervous, not afraid." I shook my head as I paused. "Should I be?" 

He shrugged. "I, perhaps, should be afraid of you, how much you know, what you could do with a few well-placed words. Some people think I should kill you, get rid of a possible weak point." Three guesses as to that one. Thank you so much, Mr. Malfoy, for the vote of confidence. "But I am not suicidal. Min would make sure Potter has a clear shot at me if anything were to happen to you while you're here." He chuckled dryly, the sound still not a comforting one. "You said I puzzle you." 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"You don't fit the profile of the person who made the Ministry frightened of shadows for over two decades. The person who tried to kill an innocent baby, and got thrown into a half-life for fourteen years. Who has tried to kill that same boy more times than I care to count. Not completely. And you're certainly not the same kind of person who took over a girl's mind and made her attack other students with a basilisk, including me. Yes, you have some of the traits, and it's rather difficult to deny you did most of what I've mentioned, but you're also polite, well-mannered, willing to listen, you let someone else dictate terms to you - on occasion, I'm having a civil conversation with you, and I heard you tell me Transfiguration professor that you love her. It doesn't add up." 

"You wouldn't expect it to, and you're not meant to. I am cruel, and heartless, the epitome of an evil wizard when I'm fighting my enemies. So are they. I don't easily tolerate failure, and exact a harsh price on those who do fail me. I am fascinated by the effects of pain on the human psyche, and have been known to torture for sport, and kill on a whim. I won't hesitate to kill even innocents, if the mood strikes me." He was painting a cold, bleak - and unfortunately accurate - portrait of himself, and I thought he was trying to scare me. 

"Yes. And?" I couldn't let myself show any fear, or I knew, somehow, I'd be failing a crucial test. And would probably wake up one morning to find myself on the wrong end of the Killing Curse. 

"I practice the Dark Arts because they are more powerful, and provide more of a thrill than any other form of magic. I've tortured and killed my own followers because they so much as laughed at the wrong moment. Even my Inner Circle has not been immune to my whims." He paused, watching me as he appeared to wait for a reply. 

"You also have a woman - who is no fool - who loves you, and you love in return. You have a daughter who is willing to let her children near you despite your reputation, and still have the friendship of two women who strike me as very shrewd women. You are a good leader - albeit a capricious one." 

"So was Hitler." I was surprised by his reference to Muggle history, though he grew up with it, and so lived through the terror that was World War II. 

"Yes. But you've not had those closest to you abandon you, at all. You've not made them lose their trust in you." I paused, wondering what I could say that would ensure my safety for a while longer. And not be a lie. "You've trusted me not to tell some of your secrets, and I feel I should at least give you a chance to prove I can trust you as well." Professor McGonagall trusts him, and I'd be selling her out if I ratted on Voldemort and his Inner Circle. I can't do that. 

"And have I?" 

"You've not given me a reason to distrust you completely so far." 

Voldemort stood, and I hastily followed suit, trailing after him to the hall. "You may go now, Miss Granger." A smile twitched his lips. "I'm certain Meri will be waiting to fuss over you again." He paused. "I should get that woman a pet," was the last thing I heard him say as he moved away down the hall. 

He was right, Meri was probably waiting to fuss over me again. Perhaps someone should get that woman a cat or a dog. 


	3. A Bet and an Argument

**A Bet and an Argument**

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 

Meri kept fussing over me until Elizabeth was born. Then she spoiled my daughter rotten, just as Elizabeth's grandparents did. I wish they were here now, wish they could still spoil her, but now there's only her godparents to do that, and they're both trapped here with us. 

I'm writing by the daylight that sifts through the cracks in the floorboards and the door. Weak, but enough to see Draco coming over, enough to write by. He looks over my shoulder at what I'm writing, his hands resting lightly on the tense muscles of my neck and shoulders, gently kneading. 

He doesn't say anything, merely kisses my hair, his arms sliding forward, tracing along my collarbone before slipping back to my shoulders. There isn't enough privacy here to do anything, and that's frustrating for us both. 

It wasn't always that way. We used to have all the privacy we wanted. Sometimes more than we wanted. Like the time we both had detention, less than a week after I met Tom and the others. Detention with Snape and his uncertain schedule. 

~~~ ~~~ 

I was once again scrubbing out cauldrons, this time on a Wednesday night, with an unexpected fellow detainee. Draco had complained bitterly to Snape about the indignity of scrubbing out cauldrons by hand, of course, and received merely a raised eyebrow. Even his favorite students don't get the best treatment from Snape during detention. 

We all looked up at a knock on the door, and Snape growled as he went to open it, leaving the papers he'd been grading on his desk. McGonagall was there, her face as pale as snow. "Severus. It's Meri. She's having another episode." 

Whatever had McGonagall worried about her friend made Snape curse, and flick his wand at the papers before speaking to us. "Those cauldrons are to be cleaned before either of you leave. And no blood on the floor." He plucked the papers out of the air where they hovered expectantly, turning to leave. 

Wait. He was trusting us to not only complete our detention without him there to supervise, but also to be civil in each other's company? Well, maybe not civil, but he was trusting us not to kill each other, apparently. 

"Sir? Where are you going?" Draco was braver than I at that moment, to question Snape. The man had been unbearable since that Saturday, and I suspected I knew why, though I would not mention it to anyone, even if I was correct. 

Snape glared at him a brief second before he stalked out, following McGonagall, not deigning to answer the question. 

"Congratulations, ferret-boy. Why do I suspect you've earned us both another detention?" I glared at Draco as I sat back on my heels, and the damnable boy simply smirked. Of course, he should have only earned himself another detention, but with the mood Snape had apparently been in, I wouldn't put it past him to have given us both another detention. 

"Because I just did, knowing him, Granger." I could have cheerfully throttled him right then. Oh, the wonders of murder... 

"No 'Mudblood' today, Malfoy?" As much as I hated that word, I was surprised when he didn't use it. And to use my name, in any fashion? Hmm. Odd. 

He shrugged, and returned to scrubbing out the cauldron. Whoever had used that one had baked on the potion in a Nevillesque fashion. 

"Why not?" I continued working, though my mind raced to figure out what was going on. 

"It's old, and I haven't come up with a suitable substitute." He kept his attention off of me, an irritated frown on his hands... Oh no, not again! Malfoy was in no way attractive, and he's a complete and utter prat! Besides... 

"It's hard to think up an insult, though, when I'm still trying to figure out how the bloody hell a Mudblood like you has managed to scramble my wits." His conversational tone and blunt statement caught me completely off-guard. 

"I... What in blazes are you talking about?" What did he mean I scrambled his wits? He's supposed to be the conniving, unaffected Slytherin, the one who'd be manipulating me and scrambling my wits. 

He stopped scrubbing again, and looked over at me. "You do remember that incident outside this classroom just over a month ago?" His expression told me he had hoped I wasn't that dense. Hmph. As if. I nodded, and he continued. "I always thought of you as nothing more than an annoying Mudblood know-it-all. Yet when you tripped - and you mangled my feet in the process , I might add - I had rather undeniable and inarguable proof you were a bit more than that, though you were still a Mudblood, and still annoying." 

There was a frown of annoyance on his face as he paused briefly. "I didn't plan to kiss you, it just happened, unfortunately. Though I meant it when I said you tasted sweet. Like honey and clove." I blushed at the compliment, and opened my mouth to say something, but he kept talking, ignoring me. 

"Since then, I can't seem to get you out of my mind, not for long. And that..." He trailed off, the frown deepening. "I want you out of my thoughts, Mudblood. Out of my mind." His tone was viciously low, calculated to be cruel. When you're used to it coming, day in and day out, it doesn't effect you very much. 

"Look, Malfoy, you don't get off that easy." I was in the mood to bite his head off, and scrubbed ferociously as I spoke, my eyes snapping. "You weren't the only one thrown for a loop that day. You're supposed to be Malfoy ferret-boy, my worst enemy, not a fit young man with a face too handsome for your own good. You want me out of your thoughts? Then get out of mine, ferret-boy." 

I could sense him staring at me, but ignored him in favor of scrubbing the next cauldron. The sooner they were done, the sooner I could leave. 

"You think I'm handsome?" 

His voice was incredulous, and I made the mistake of looking up into his bemused face. A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth, though I tried valiantly to suppress it, before I burst out laughing. Draco's own chuckle joined mine moments later, hesitant at first. It was a long time before we could look up without erupting into further peals of laughter. 

"I can't believe you actually said I'm handsome. You're the one member of the female population of this school - not counting professors - I'd never think to hear it from." He wouldn't meet my eyes, fearful, I thought, of setting off another round of laughter. 

"Anymore than I can believe you've said I taste sweet on one occasion, much less two." I was of similar opinion on eye contact at that moment, and we settled back into silence, though a far more companionable one, scrubbing what remained of the cauldrons. 

"Why did you say that you think I'm handsome?" Draco sounded genuinely curious. 

"I said you have a face too handsome for your own good. Not that you were handsome." I kept my voice tart, a hint of amusement creeping in despite my efforts. 

"Same thing." I could hear the verbal shrug of indifference. Irritating man. SIlence reigned for a brief moment. "So why?" 

"Are you always this annoying?" 

"Yes." He paused. "You're avoiding the subject." There was a smirk on his face again. Damn him. 

"Because it's true. You have most of the girls in school fawning over you, and you take as your due, simply because you're good-looking, and wealthy, and a 'pure-blood'." I glared at him as I finished the last cauldron in my stack. "You think you have it all, that you can get anywhere, anything, anyone you want." 

"And you think I can't?" He was finished his as well. We could leave. And leave this unfinished to fester. 

"Everything has a price to it, and one day you're going to come across one you don't want to pay. One you can't pay." 

"I have money enough to live in luxury without lifting a finger. To buy anyone I want." He shrugged. "Some women wouldn't even need the money, simply that I noticed them is enough." 

"You can't buy off death. And not everyone can be bought for money or jewels or power. Some people have principles and ethics that won't be swayed no matter what prize you wave under their nose." 

"Everyone has their price." He smirked. "Even you, Granger. What is it? And expansive library? A private research lab?" 

I shook my head. "You wouldn't know it if it walked up and smacked you in the face, Malfoy." I stood, heading for the door, my expression closed and eyes cold. I hadn't gotten two steps before he seized my arm, and spun me roughly around. 

"Are you willing to bet on that, Granger?" 

"Bet on what?" 

He was smirking. "That I can't find your price." 

"What are the stakes?" I kept my face still, expressionless. Made me great at poker. 

"If I can find your price, before the summer holiday, your time when not in class next year belongs to me." His smirk deepened as I gaped, and it took a moment for logic to reassert itself. He couldn't possibly find my 'price', because the concepts involved were utterly foreign to him. 

"Done. And if you don't find it in that time frame, you leave me alone for the entirety of seventh year." 

He looked pained a moment before the mask returned, and he spoke. "Agreed." He let me go, and I stalked to the door, jerking it open. 

I barely stifled a groan. Harry and Ron were standing just outside, accusing looks on their faces. "How much did you hear?" I prayed they'd only heard the bet, just the bet. 

"We'll talk about it back at the tower, Hermione." Ron had glanced over my shoulder at Malfoy, and his expression became hard, closed. His grip as her seized my elbow was not gentle, propelling me towards the stairs. 

~~~ ~~~ 

"How could you, Hermione?" Ron's face had been nearly purple with rage as we walked in, but he'd calmed himself down before he spoke. "Handsome? He's Malfoy, for God's sake! How can you go soft on him?" 

Harry was by the window of the room, staring out the window silently. He'd given the other boys who shared the dorm a Look, and they'd cleared out in a hurry, not wanting to be in the room when the bomb dropped. He merely watched the first snow of winter fall as Ron continued to rant. 

"He's our enemy, Hermione. Not someone you can talk to..." 

"Have you ever tried?" I glared at him, not truly in the mood for a lecture. From anyone, least of all him. "Have you Ron? Or did you just let you wounded pride from first year dictate your actions?" 

"WOUNDED PRIDE?" he roared. "Hermione, Malfoy is an unprincipled prat. His parents are Death Eaters, and he' probably going to be one as well. They'll kill you as soon as look at you!" 

"How do you know? Have you ever personally met any?" I was gearing up for a fight, and at that point, I didn't care. Besides, though Lucius Malfoy might kill me on general principles, Narcissa Malfoy would as soon see me paired off with some high-born brat - or so I had gotten the impression when I met her. She's an odd one. 

"Have you, Hermione?" Harry's voice was quiet, and he didn't turn, merely speaking. "I have. Fourth year, when Wormtail brought Voldemort back using my blood. They aren't nice people." 

"That's probably understating it, Harry." Ron's lips twisted in a bitter smile. "They're some of the nastiest Dark wizards and witches alive. Percy and dad both come home looking like hell the day after an attack. Percy, especially, since he's gotten himself stuck with the paperwork of the investigations. He has nightmares, Hermione, where he wakes up screaming. Where the faces he sees in the reports march by him, asking him why they weren't saved, why he couldn't save them." 

"There's nothing he can do to save them." Harry shrugged, catching the lecture ball smoothly. "I see it sometimes, when Voldemort's there. It's horrible, what they do to their victim before they find the mercy of death. You can't imagine what they go through..." 

"Can I?" I'm not that small minded, Harry Potter!" I spat the name at him, and regretted it for a moment when I thought I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. Then they hardened, and my regret vanished. "All I did was have a civil conversation with Malfoy, and you're jumping down my throat about it!" 

"Just a 'civil conversation', Hermione?" Ron was staring at me, and angry flush creeping into his cheeks. "You made a bet with him! And if he wins..." 

"He can't, Ron Weasley! I took that bet because I knew I could win!" My fists were clenched at my sides as I glared at him. If looks could kill, Ron would have died then. 

"What if you don't? You're willing to risk loosing your freedom for that?" 

"Loosing my freedom? You're making it sound like it would be forever, not the mere nine months that it would be!" 

"How can you be sure Malfoy would let you go so easily? I'm sure he'd love having a slave..." 

"He isn't like that, Ron! He has a certain honor to him, even if he is an amoral brat. Besides..." I shut my mouth with a snap, realizing how close I'd come to telling them about meeting Voldemort and the Inner Circle. If I'd kept going, there'd be no mercy at all. Not from them, not from the Ministry. 

"'Besides' what, Hermione?" Harry turned, his eyes narrowed. 

"Nothing." They would not get it out of me. Not even if they tortured me. Not even if they used Verisitum. 

"You're lying." Harry stalked closer, forcing me to retreat until my back hit a wall. "You're hiding something." 

Ron loomed up beside Harry, the two effectively trapping me. I tried to duck past them, but they just moved to block my path. 

"What are you hiding from us, Hermione?" 

"I can't tell you." It was a half-truth. I couldn't tell them the conversation I had with McGonagall a month ago. God, had it only been a month? It felt like a lifetime. 

"The hell you can't. You just don't want to." Ron's voice was cold, like it had been when he spoke about Malfoy earlier. 

"I can't, Ron! I swore a Wizard's Oath!" 

Both of them recoiled in surprise at my statement, blinking at me in shock. Harry recovered first, a hurt expression on his face. 

"Why? Because you didn't think we needed to know? Because you didn't think we could handle it, whatever 'it' was? Why, Hermione?" 

"Because I knew how you'd react." My voice was quiet. "Because I knew you wouldn't believe what I had learned." Because I suspected I'd be dead by now if I hadn't. Because you both would have gotten yourselves killed trying to protect me when I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. 

"Because you didn't trust us." Ron's voice was bitter as his expression. "Friendships are based on trust, Hermione. How can we trust you when you lock us out completely?" 

"I..." 

"Just leave, Hermione." Harry stood aside, leaving a clear path to the door. "The door will be open, but don't come back until you can trust us enough to talk to us." 

"Ron..." My voice died beneath his unwavering gaze. He raised an eyebrow when I didn't move. 

"Did you want to tell me something?" 

I lifted my chin at the chill in his voice, and shook my head. "Just, good-bye, Weasley." I managed to keep my composure until I got to my room. That night, I cried myself to sleep. 

~~~ ~~~ 

The next morning I avoided breakfast, unwilling to face the sullen stares and hurt expression I'd be sure to get from Harry and Ron, hurrying instead down to the dungeons. Potions was the first class I had that day, though I'd have to face Harry, at least Ron wouldn't be there. Malfoy had arrived ahead of me, much to my annoyance, lounging against the wall outside the potions dungeon. 

"Had a little falling out with Scarhead and the Weasel, Mudblood?" His smirk was all too knowing as I glared at him. How had he found out about the argument?" 

"Bugger off, ferret-boy." I administered my patented Death Glare, and he had the nerve to chuckle. To. Laugh. At. Me! 

"A bit touchy today, aren't we, Granger?" He sauntered into the classroom behind me as I hurried to take the seat that put me as far as humanly possible from his usual seat without putting me any closer to Harry. I didn't want to deal with either of them. 

Malfoy, curse him, obviously had other plans, seating himself in the chair directly to my right. 

"Don't bother moving, Granger. You won't get rid of me that easily." His voice was a soft purr in my ear as he leaned closer, and I glared. His soft, mocking laughter was a bitter reminder that he was baiting me, and I turned away, determined to ignore him. 

Harry came in a few minutes later, his eyes only briefly brushing over me, before he hurried on to his usual seat in the back corner of the room. From the angry, hurt glare he tossed me as he set down his books, I doubted I'd find any support from him against Malfoy. Blast them both, anyway! 

My annoyed thoughts were interrupted by Snape sweeping into the room with his usual scowl on his face. At least once class started, I'd be able to ignore both Malfoy and Harry. I hoped. 

"We will be discussing your papers on poisons today. That is, of course, if you all have remembered to complete them." 

Why did Snape have to remind me? I couldn't ignore them when we're dissecting each other's papers. Fortunately, I did mine as soon as it was assigned, or I'd have forgotten it with the mess of those few days. 

"Miss Bones." Snape went in alphabetical order, fortunately. We had to present the paper, and then we fielded questions from everyone else. Except him. He didn't shred our papers till later, when he was grading the written work. 

Susan was our solitary Hufflepuff in the class; she wanted to be a medi-witch. Her paper was on poisons used for treatments, of course. Like chemotherapy in the Muggle world, though there are some real differences. 

"How do they compare to charms to excise the growth?" Padma asked the first question of the round that time. Susan didn't have any problems answering the questions, which meant her grade wouldn't be truly abysmal, so long as her paper was decently written. 

"Miss Granger." My paper was on tracing poisons, particularly ones that broke down in the body into compounds naturally found there. Or ones that could be explained as ingestion as part of normal habits - like wormwood in absinthe, and various types of fungi. 

"What about using woodworm?" Malfoy was watching me with a disturbing intensity. And I thought I'd just explained that in my paper? Don't you ever listen, Malfoy? 

"As I said earlier, it would be traceable in that you can find out what killed them, but not necessarily how they ingested it." He kept that over-intent gaze on me as I finished reiterating what I had pointed out in the paper, and for the rest of class. Irritating, that. 

After class, I packed my bag hurriedly, praying I could make it to my Arithmancy class without having to deal with more of Malfoy. No such luck, of course. 

"In a hurry, Granger?" He sauntered along beside me, as if he didn't have a care in the world. 

"I have an Arithmancy class, Malfoy. Leave me alone," I gritted out between my teeth. I wanted to kill him. First, he made a jumble of my emotions, then he destroyed my friendship with Harry, and my relationship with Ron, all in one fell swoop. What did he want? To irritate me into something stupid? 

"Why? I thought simply to enjoy your company." He had an innocent expression on his face that I didn't believe for a moment. 

"I doubt that." My tone was acid, and I quickened my pace, hoping to leave him behind. What was he doing? 

"I'm wounded, Granger." His hurt expression struck me as almost comical. "How could you doubt my word?" 

"Easily, Malfoy." The door to my Arithmancy class was a welcome sight, and I slipped through, heading for my seat. 

Malfoy followed me. 

"Don't you have small animals to torment, Malfoy?" I refused to look at him, focusing instead on setting my books out for my class. 

"I find it far more enjoyable tormenting you at the moment, Granger." He slid into the seat beside me, and I shot a glance at his expression from the corner of my eye. The smug smirk pushed my temper closer to the boiling point. 

I had to keep reminding myself that murder would only get me in trouble, as satisfying as it might be in the short term. 

"You must have a class..." 

"Not yet. You have the benefit of my undivided attention until then." 

If I had to deal with Malfoy much longer, I was going to scream. Either that, or I was going to kill him. 

"Malfoy." I paused for effect, my voice quiet. "If you don't remove yourself from my presence immediately, I will give you the chance to relive your experiences as a ferret." I even managed to keep my tone even and calm, and I noticed him go paler out of the corner of my eye, though he didn't leave. 

"You wouldn't." 

"I would. And I would give you to Hagrid to take care of." That made Malfoy turn a shade of pale green, and I could have sworn I saw him shudder, though he denied it later. "Frightened?" I was the one with the amused smirk at that point. Amazing what threatening someone with acute embarrassment could do for the ego. 

"Of a Mudblood? Don't be absurd," he snapped, his color returning to his face as he scowled. "You're bluffing, Granger. You'll get yourself expelled." 

"Will I?" I raised an eyebrow. "Even with McGonagall's more even-handed attitude, I'm certain she will see nothing of note should I carry through with that threat." 

His scowl deepened, and he lowered his voice as he replied. "I can go over your head, and get you worse than expelled."

I smiled, knowing I held the trump there. "You shouldn't count on that, Malfoy. Keeping her happy is the one thing he holds very highly. Killing me would be counter-productive." 

He turned his head to glare at me a moment, before stalking out just as Professor Vector came in. She paused, staring after him a moment before blinking, and heading for the front of the room to begin class. 

~~~ ~~~ 

That evening, I had detention with Malfoy again, courtesy of his ill-timed question the night before. Murder was not an option, despite the continual temptation he provided. Though that night did give me a golden opportunity to do so. Well, almost. Snape would spoil it. 

"I am trusting you two to make this without using it, or any of the ingredients, on each other." Snape fixed us both with a black gaze. "The instructions are on the work table, and any ingredients you need that aren't in the student supplies are set out next to the instructions." 

"And you, sir?" Malfoy was going to be the end of my free time, at this rate. 

Snape glared at him a moment before answering, his voice silky soft with menace. "I will be occupied elsewhere, Mr. Malfoy. Do not think you have the advantage of knowing my movements simply because of who you are." 

Malfoy simply kept a bland expression on his face, silently questioning that statement. I rolled my eyes, wondering if he was indeed suicidal. Though this was a Slytherin I was thinking about, so it is a given he probably has a sense of self preservation. Notably absent when around his head of house. 

Shaking my head, I left the two to thier mutual antagonism while I went over the instructions for the potion. It was surprisingly easy to make, though I wondered why Professor Snape was having us make it. A potent poison that could also be used to help those who had a relatively rare disease found only in the pure-blooded wizarding population. A disease that weakened the body and caused fits in the ability to work magic. And seizures. 

I put together a few oddities that had not really impinged on my conscious until now. The concerned looks that had been shot at Meri at that odd breakfast. The door slamming slightly instead of closing smoothly when she used her wand to shut it. The sense of frailty about her. And Professor McGonagall's comment the night before, about Meri having another episode. 

"Something wrong, Granger?" I jumped when Malfoy whispered in my ear, directly behind me. I must have been very unaware of my surroundings for him to do that. 

I shook my head slightly to clear it. "I'm not certain. Why is Professor Snape having us make this? It's incredibly simple, though it, and the ingredients, are quite poisonous, deadly if mishandled. But it isn't something anyone here would use, not to my knowledge." 

He moved into my view, his expression unreadable. "You should be able to figure it out, after last night." He ignored the parchment in my hands, beginning to make the potion as I watched him. 

"You've done this before." I set the parchment aside, preparing the wormwood while he measured out the necessary amount of distilled water. 

"Since I could work with potions. Mother was making it for awhile, until I came to Hogwarts. Aunt Meri moved out shortly after that because mother won't tolerate her fussing, so it became easier for Professor Snape to make it, and deliver it." He shrugged. "Is that wormwood ready?" 

I nodded, passing it to him. "Why did she stay with your family originally?" 

"Uncle Tom was presumed dead, and Aunt Ri had vanished along with her country home for the time." 

"What about her family?" 

Malfoy shrugged again, measuring out powdered unicorn horn while the wormwood and water simmered. "Her parents were quite dead at that point, her nephew isn't able to take care of her all the time, and her brother can't tell her from Eve at this point. And I already told you Aunt Ri was nowhere to be found."

"She has a brother?" 

"You ask a lot of questions, Granger." He added the unicorn horn, and I immediately added the three drops of basilisk venom, making it hiss and steam. The potion did need two people to make it. 

"I'm curious." 

"And people can eavesdrop, as last night proved." He glared at me before picking up the knife to chop the nightshade leaves. "I'm not anxious to have my family's problems all over the school." 

"They're unlikely to come back down to check on me, thanks to your antics then!" 

A smirk spread across his features, and he turned to face me as I stirred the potion. He was amused, devil take him! 

"So you did have a falling out with Scarhead and the Weasel." 

"As if that wasn't bloody obvious!" I snapped, interrupting him. "And they have names which I know you have stored somewhere in that slimy mind of yours, so you can bleeding well use them!" 

"Your wish is my command, Granger." He bowed with a flourish, a mocking smile on his face. "I shall not call Potter 'Scarhead' or Weasley 'the Weasel' while in your presence. No guarantees on any other time." 

I blinked, watching him out of the corner of my eye. "You're mocking me." 

"Of course, Granger. I simply wouldn't be myself if I did not. Or if I neglected to torment Bumbledork's Golden Boy or the ever-charming..." He frowned a moment, then shook his head, continuing. "The ever-charming rodent that is his side-kick." 

I scowled, though I was rather relieved. He was his usual prat of a self, despite the possible glimpse of something more. I didn't need for him to throw me for another loop, like he had the month before. 

"Oh, before I forget, Granger. Mother wanted me to remind you of the invitation to stay at the Manor over the Christmas holiday." He grimaced. "Though I am at a loss as to why she invited you. Father will go through the roof, and Aunt Bella is likely to take Tomas and Lisette back to Uncle Tom's for the holiday." 

I could have screamed. Obviously she wasn't going to take no for an answer, unless, possibly, I had someone else to stay with. And my best option was rather non-existent with the current state of affairs between me and Ron. "I'll let her know if I can come, though right now I have other plans." 

"She'll find some way around those plans, you realize. My mother does not know how to take no for an answer." He had a wry smile on his face as he spoke, his voice as dry as dust. 

"I noticed." My voice was equally dry. I handed him the ground dragon scales mixed with a single drop of dragons blood to create a paste. 

He nodded silently, checking the potion. We'd have to strain it before mixing it with the paste, but not quite yet. "Get the sieve ready. I'll pour it through, then you can stir the paste as I add the liquid." 

It didn't take us long to finish the potion, and Malfoy surprised me by offering to walk me back to Gryffindor tower. The prat ruined it by adding a snide remark about Gryffindors being afraid to travel alone in the dark. 

"With the possible exception of Longbottom, of course, but stupidity is no substitute for knowledge." 

"Shut up, ferret-boy." I stalked to the stairs out of the dungeon with a scowl on my face that deepened when I saw Ron watching from the top. He looked at me a moment before turning away, patrolling the ground floor for students out after curfew. Damn it all, I wasn't a little girl who needed someone to watch over her all the time! 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 

Author's Note: Thank you to all those who reviewed! Also, if you have any questions about the story, feel free to ask, and I will do my best to answer them. Also, a new chapter should come out approximately once every week or two, probably closer to two, depending on how fast I get the chapter finished. 

To Daintress - I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I hope you continue to read it. I will endevor to read yours when I have a spare moment. 

To JulyFlame - *blushes* Flatterer. But I am glad you are enjoying it, and I do hope I continue to meet your expectations, and continue to deserve that high rating you have given me. 

To Ginger - I also hope to continue to meet your standards for a good plot and well-written characters. I hope you continue to read, and continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds. 


	4. Christmas Holiday

**Christmas Holidays**

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 

Of course, I doubt anyone was able to see I wasn't a child until after Elizabeth was born. If my parents ever did stop seeing their baby girl when they looked at me, though they did well hiding it. I wish they were still here, that they were still alive, as futile as that is. 

We had to change hiding places last night, with the Ministry getting suspicious of the last people who hid us. We would leave the country if Tom was up to crossing the Channel, or we could get a flight out. We can't use magical means, not with the Ministry watching all the time, so our options are rather limited. 

At least this place is drier, even though it is more cramped than the last place, smaller, and with one more person to add to our company, for now. We're safe for another week, at least, and in two, Remus will have to leave. It will be the full moon, and there is no way to get him the wolfsbane potion he needs. More is the pity; I wish he could stay longer. 

He did bring us news. Fate, disguised as the Ministry, caught up with Meri and Ri, just as it did Dumbledore shortly before Draco and I had to hide. Min is still crying, and Tom is doing worse, with that stress added on top of hiding, and the illness. I still remember the last time we were all in one place - well, except Ginny and Elizabeth - at the same time. It was the oddest Christmas holiday I'd ever had, and certainly didn't turn out quite the way any of us expected. 

~~~ ~~~ 

I collapsed gratefully onto my bed, happy to be home, instead of being bribed or coerced into going to Malfoy Manor for the holiday. Though Mrs. Malfoy was not pleased I declined her invitation, I was sure. 

"Hermione! There's someone here to see you!" I groaned as mum's voice floated up the stairs, and dragged myself out of bed. A quick check to make sure my hair wasn't a complete wreck, and I went downstairs, expecting Amanda or Jennifer, two of my friends from before Hogwarts that still came around. 

Mum was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, a knowing smirk on her face. "He's quite the handsome boy, your friend." 

He? 

"Mum, did he give you his name?" I was hoping it was Harry or Ron. It had to be. They were the only two boys at school who knew where I lived. Well, it could be one of the other Weasleys, but I doubted it. 

"No. Go on, he's in the parlor. And do invite him for dinner." 

I nodded, a smile on my face as I went to greet whichever one had shown up. It would be so good to get back on speaking terms with one of them, at least... The smile faded when I saw who was waiting in the parlor, looking around at everything with a definite air of superiority about him. 

"Malfoy." My voice was flat, and unamused. "What are you doing here?" 

He turned to face me, a tragic expression of hurt on his face, though it was ruined a moment later when he opened his mouth. "You are being remarkably obtuse, Granger. I decided to come visit, and hardly require any other reason to do anything." He kept his voice pitched too low to carry far. Pity. I'd have loved for mum and dad to hear him being such a prat when he was supposed to be a friend. Speaking of that... 

"How did you convince mum you were a friend of mine? She's certainly heard enough to know who you are." 

He now looked highly insulted. Hmph. He could have made a fortune as an actor. "I can be polite when it is necessary to get my way. Even to Muggles such as your parents." He invested the word ÔMuggle' with volumes of scorn without much modulating his tone, the bastard! I wish I knew how he did that - it would have come in handy to know. 

"You had best be, Malfoy," I growled, my own voice kept low. There was merit in not having my parents hear this conversation. "Mum has invited you to dinner, and if you make one nasty comment about them or Muggle or Muggle-borns, I will use your innards to hang you." 

He smirked as he inclined his head slightly. "I will keep my commentary to myself unless asked, if need be." 

I glared, but mum stuck her head in before I could reply, to announce that dinner was ready. 

Malfoy managed a gracious nod, and a smile, while I kept from gaping out of sheer will. He was not behaving normally. I wanted to know who was drugging him, with what, and where they were getting it. If he could be kept in this state, he might actually be tolerable. Or he'd drive everyone insane, one or the other. 

"I've met some of Hermione's friends from school, but I don't believe I've met you. What did you say your name was again?" 

"I didn't. Draco Malfoy, at your service, madame." Really, he didn't have to butter her up so much. "I do thank you for the offer of dinner, but I am afraid I must decline. Mother will be expecting me shortly, and I really cannot upset her." 

"That is a pity. I was looking forward to talking to one of Hermione's friends. Though I don't recall her mentioning very many positive occurrences associated with you." 

Draco smiled in reply, spreading his hands in an eloquent gesture of surrender. "I am afraid all are likely true. I unfortunately do not have the time to speak to the accusations, merely to remind the brave Hermione that my mother expects to see her for the Christmas party on the twenty-fourth, and insists she stay the rest of the holiday at the Manor." 

Mum's eyes widened, and she smiled at him. At Malfoy! "Hermione didn't tell us about the invitation. This is wonderful! You are going, of course, aren't you, Hermione dear?" 

I could kill Malfoy later, but there was no way I could turn down the invite, not in front of mum, not with her oh-so-hopeful expression. "I was going to tell you this evening, ask you before I sent her my acceptance..." 

"Then it is settled. Mother will be quite pleased to hear it." Malfoy smirked at me, where mum couldn't see him, before nodding to her and me. "I bid you both a good evening." At least with him leaving, I didn't have to put up with him being a prat over dinner. Not that night. 

~~~ ~~~ 

The next day, mum and dad dropped me off at Diagon Alley, where the Malfoys, well, Draco and his mother, at least, said they would pick me up. In the interests of having me on time to the party, which would begin shortly after breakfast - so they said in the owl earlier that morning. People were milling about the alley, doing Christmas shopping, as I stepped through the barrier, looking for the two. If I didn't see them, maybe I... 

"There you are, my dear!" Meri emerged from the crowd, Ri behind her. "Cissa sends her regrets, but she had to make sure Lucius, the precocious boy, doesn't make a scene about you going to Malfoy Manor for the holidays." She had a broad smile on her face as she took both of my hands in hers, and kissed both my cheeks. 

Precocious boy? Lucius Malfoy? I was beginning to wonder about her. She was a sweet woman, but not all there upstairs. 

"Oh, come on, come on. We have a car waiting, my dear nephew - Cynthia's sweet little boy - is being so kind to us, driving the pesky vehicle." She hustled me along the street, and down another road that opened off it just beyond Gringotts. That one said ÔDragon Row' on the street sign, and was lined with expensive houses walled and gated, and a few houses down, a huge Rolls Royce sat, Remus leaning against the driver's door. 

"Remus, dear boy, here is that delightful girl Cissa has invited for Christmas. Oh, I'm sure you've met before, she goes to Hogwarts, young Hermione Granger. She is quite a doll, she is, such a delight to have for company." 

Remus looked up, a startled expression on his face. "I've met Miss Granger before, on several occasions, Aunt Meri." He paused, looking puzzled. "You said Narcissa Malfoy invited her for Christmas?" 

Meriu reached out to slap his knuckles with her wand, a frown of annoyance flitting across her face. "Remus Joseph Lupin, you behave yourself! Cissa is a dear girl, and I won't tolerate any maligning of her character. After all," she sniffed as I rolled my eyes. "it isn't her fault Lucius is so obnoxious about Muggle-borns." 

"Yes, Aunt Meri." Remus looked as if this was a long-standing contention between them, and I shrugged, getting into the car as Ri sharply reminded us we would be late if we continued to dawdle. I saw Remus climb into the driver's seat before Meri closed the door, leaving me to the chatter of the two older women in the back of the modified car. 

I heard more about the politics of the wizarding world in those two hours out to Ri's home than I had heard in my entire life prior. That was a huge old manor house, with a broad, long drive, and massive gardens surrounding it. We pulled up in front of the steps, and two young men in livery leaped to open the door. 

"You don't have house-elves?" I was surprised, I admit, by the human servants, but my thoughts of Ri being someone who was kind to non-humans was quickly sent flying. 

"Oh, dear child, of course I have house-elves. This just isn't one of their jobs." Ri waved a dismissive hand as she let the footmen assist her out of the car. "No, house-elves have their place, and that is out of my sight. They may keep the house clean, but I won't have them disturbing me or my guests. Nor will I have them cooking my meals - God forbid!" 

"Of course," I murmured. I should have expected she had house-elves, as she is an aristocrat and a pure-blood, after all. 

She led the way, Meri beside her, Remus falling in beside me, her expression troubled as we approached the house. "When did you meet Aunt Meri?" 

I looked over at him, startled by the low question. "Why do you ask?" 

"She has some very questionable friends from her past that wouldn't be too keen on you remaining alive." He was watching the subject of his comment as she chattered at Ri, his eyes dark with concern. "Morigyn Black being one of them, though she might have mellowed. And why would Narcissa Malfoy, of all people, invite you for Christmas?" 

That was not good, of course. How could I tell him I'd met Voldemort and the Inner Circle, much less that they'd accepted me - as far as I could tell - into their company? As frightening as that was to me. 

"Um... It's rather difficult to explain." I looked down at my feet as we climbed the stairs up to the huge double doors of the main entrance. "Promise me anything I tell you will go no further." I looked up at his frowning face, worried about what he'd say. He had been one of my favorite professors, and I didn't want to completely alienate him. 

"What happened, Hermione?" He had a concerned expression on his face, as if he expected something terrible. Perhaps it would be, to some people, but blast it, I was perfectly able to take care of myself! 

"Wizard's Oath, or I don't tell you!" I glared at him, pausing at the door. 

He held up his hands in surrender, startled, drawing his wand a moment later. "Wizard's Oath, then." A brief touch, and the oath was sealed. "What is so odd about how you met Aunt Meri to require that?" 

I turned, going inside before I replied. "I met her in November, the weekend after Halloween." I paused, watching his reaction as I continued. "She met me at the door of the Riddle Mansion at three am, because I was expected for breakfast the next day." 

Remus was staring at me, his expression one of shock. I did suppose having someone tell you they'd had breakfast with the man who killed your best friends would be a shock. 

He grabbed my arm, pulling me into an alcove just off the main entrance, his voice a low growl. "You were where?" 

"Riddle Mansion, on a Saturday morning, having breakfast with Voldemort and his Inner Circle." It was amazing how calm I sounded. "And no, I was not, and am not, under the Imperious Curse." 

"Merlin's sake, Hermione!" He was staring at me still, mingled shock, horror, and awe in his expression. "How did you come back alive? And why, for God's sake, did you go?" 

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "It is a long story, and I need food and a strong drink before I can tell it." 

"Tell what, dear?" Meri peered into the alcove, a smile on her face. "Whatever are you talking about that has my nephew looking like a stranded fish? Oh, and don't deny it, Remus dear," she admonished as he opened his mouth to protest, "you do. Well?" 

"Just wondering when and where I met you, Meri." I slipped past them out of the alcove, hoping to escape awkward questions. Of course, my luck wasn't that good. 

"The breakfast at Tom's? Oh dear." Meri's smile faded. "You should sit down to tell that one. It is a little much for him to take." She paused, wrapping one arm about my shoulders in a comforting gesture. "Why don't we go sit in the drawing room while Ri goes to drag her nephew out of wherever he's hidden himself now." 

I frowned as she herded us into another room, seating us near a cheery fire. "Her nephew?" I vaguely remembered she'd mentioned Ri had a nephew, but I'd not heard a name mentioned. Though she was Morigyn Black, I didn't think it was... 

"Oh, Sirius, of course. He had quite a run in with death, the poor boy. I do declare it's driven him quite out of his mind." 

I wish I could remember to expect the unexpected from Meri and Ri. Though this was a good way to steer conversation away from that Saturday in November. "Sirius? We thought he died when he fell through that arch?" 

Meri shook her head. "Oh, he did. But Ri is a very determined person, and very talented at necromancy. She heard what happened the next day, and she used some piece of blood magic, I expect, to bring him back. He is her only heir, and likewise with Theodore, her brother. They would rather not see the family name die out, and since Regulus is dead, and Theodore has no sons - Katherine won't have anymore children after those girls - he was the last, and still is." 

"Yes, Meri dear. And generally we don't speak of my particular field of interest, if you recall." Ri was in the doorway, a mild expression on her face. I later learned that was her at her most dangerous. "Sirius will be down after he has taken a bath and cleaned up," she continued as she came in, taking the empty place next to Meri. "I found him outside, digging up mother's gardens. Again." 

Meri shook her head. "He can be so difficult sometimes. But he is a sweet boy, nevertheless. Oh, Remus, be a dear, and have the maid bring some of Mary's mulled cider up. So much better than tea on a cold day, it is." She smiled at me as Remus sighed, rolling his eyes as he went to do as his Aunt asked. "Now, Hermione dear, you can tell us all about what has been happening since November, with you and young Draco." 

I stifled a groan, wondering what deity I had pissed off recently to deserve this. I had wanted to steer conversation away from the November day, but Draco Malfoy was not a topic I wanted to discuss, either. "Nothing much. I try to avoid him, mostly." 

"Oh, something must have happened! You can't have avoided him completely, he's too sweet a boy to do that." 

"I... did have detention with him, a week or so after the meeting. He... made a bet with me. Ron and Harry heard, and now they won't talk to me." 

"A bet? About what?" Trust her to latch onto the one thing I didn't want to discuss. She had an uncanny ability in that department. 

""We were talking, and he said everyone had their price, and bet he could find mine." I grimaced. "I agreed to the bet..." 

"What were the stakes?" Ri had a sharp expression on her face. I could very easily hate her for that question. 

"If he wins, all my free time next year belongs to him. If he loses, he leaves me alone next year." 

"Time frame?" Ri was nosier than Meri when she decided she was interested in something. 

"He has till June." I noticed Remus return out of the corner of my eye, a damp-haired Sirius following. Harry's godfather looked like he had been to hell and back. Or in Azkaban again. 

Ri looked towards the door, and rose, going over to Sirius. "That's better, Sirius. Now, come sit and talk with the rest of us until dinner." 

He didn't really look up until he'd sprawled in the chair next to me. The startled expression on his face made Meri smile indulgently, and Remus shake his head as he reclaimed his vacant seat. 

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" He had a confused expression on his face. "Where are Harry and Ron?" 

"They're probably at the Burrow, still determined not to speak to me. I suspect they are rather miffed I accepted Mrs. Malfoy's invitation to visit over the holidays." No need to tell him about the bet, the fight, or the fact I'd accepted the invitation under duress. The reaction was sure to be spectacular enough as it was. 

He blinked a moment before he said anything. And the reaction was as impressive as I'd expected. "YOU'RE VISITING WHO FOR THE HOLIDAYS?" His roar made me wince, and Ri grabbed for her wand. "No wonder they're upset! How could..." He was cut off by a silencing spell from Ri, which earned her a black glare before he stood to leave. 

"Where do you think you are going, Sirius Theodore Black?" Ri's voice was cold, her eyes narrowed in anger. "You are going to remain here until Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco arrive, and you will behave yourself through dinner." 

His response was to head for the door, and Ri stood, her low voice cutting through the tension-filled room like a knife. 

"Do I need to remind you what I can do, nephew of mine?" 

I watched in horrified fascination as Sirius stiffened, and whirled to glare at his aunt. Remus had sat up, his expression wary as he watched his friend, and Meri looked frightened. It was several minutes before anyone moved, and Sirius returned to his seat, a scowl on his face. 

Ri sat down, removing the silencing spell from him. Still, no one spoke until there was a knock on the doorframe. 

"Ma'am, the Malfoys have arrived to see you." The butler had a dignified expression on his face, though I was sure he had heard the commotion a few minutes before. 

"Good. Show them in here, Paul, then check on Mary and make sure dinner will be ready on time." Ri smiled slightly, no warmth in it, rising to stand near Sirius, one firm hand on his shoulder. 

A few minutes later, Mrs. Malfoy came gliding in, and the smile returned to Meri's face as she rose to greet her. "Cissa, dear, it is such a delight to see you. Ri and I are so glad you make it for dinner." 

Draco was watching me as his mother exchanged greetings with Meri and Ri, and behind him, Mr. Malfoy didn't bother to hide a sneer. I knew he disliked me, and the feeling was quite mutual. Arrogant bastard. I wished they hadn't let him out of Azkaban, but politics didn't swing in my favor. 

"And Hermione, I'm delighted you accepted my invitation for the holiday." Mrs. Malfoy turned to me, a warm smile on her face. "Sephone is looking forward to seeing you again, and Lisette will be very glad to meet you. She's been so isolated, what with Bella and Rudy taking care of her and Tomas again." 

I managed a smile in return, a feeling of sick dread in the pit of my stomach. Bella and Rudy had to be the Lestranges, as I remembered Mrs. Malfoy saying Lisette was her niece, and she wasn't Tonks's sister. And Draco complained about his cousins when he could get me to listen to him. 

"Are you feeling well, Hermione? You've gone quite pale." Meri was watching me with concern, as were Mrs. Malfoy and Ri. 

"I'm... just a little light-headed, that's all. I haven't really eaten since breakfast." I tried to keep the smile pasted on my face, but it refused to stay. I must have looked miserable, because the concerned expression on the three women didn't go away. 

"You boys go on out. Find something to entertain yourselves with, that doesn't involve destroying my house, or killing each other." Ri imperiously waved the entire male contingent of the dinner party out the door, closing it behind them. "Now, you are going to tell us what is wrong." 

Faced with those three woman, I wondered if anyone ever stood a chance of hiding anything. I was sure they could teach Aurors tricks about interrogating people. They got everything that happened in the last month and a half out of me, despite my attempts not to tell, and trust me, I did try. There's only so long one can hold out against a sympathetic ear, a mother in full mothering mode, and a force of nature. 

Mrs. Malfoy started for the door with a thin-lipped smile that boded ill for Draco. She'd been appalled when she heard about the bet, and I suspected she was going to chew Draco up one side and down the other about it. 

"Mrs. Malfoy... Narcissa, please." I paused as she turned, raising an eyebrow in question. "Don't ruin the holiday mood more than the men probably already have on their own." I still wasn't used to speaking civilly with her... she hadn't been particularly nice in the past. "Besides, he's unlikely to win the wager." 

She smiled sadly at me, shaking her head. "Draco can be very perceptive when he tries, and very determined to achieve his ends. Whatever it takes. I should know, he's my son in so many ways." She didn't leave, though, standing at the door a moment, until Meri broke the silence with a rustle of cloth as she stood. 

"Well, we can't leave those boys alone too long. I'm sure they're all itching to pull wands on each other already, and Mary will have dinner ready soon." 

Ri nodded, and we headed out to retrieve the men before they could do something to damage the house. Or each other. 

~~~ ~~~ 

I'd never sat through a more awkward dinner in my life. Not that the ride back to Malfoy Manor was any better. At least Mrs. Malfoy didn't bring up the wager between Draco and I. The reaction of Mr. Malfoy was not something I wanted to contemplate. 

I was given a room decorated in red and gold, and I could see Draco shudder as he showed me where it was. I even suppressed a wince. 

"Mother insisted on redecorating it, though I haven't a clue where her usually impeccable fashion sense was at the time." His tone was cutting, and I glared at him. "What, Granger? Don't tell me you think it isn't atrocious." 

I couldn't honestly say I thought it looked nice, but I wasn't going to insult Mrs. Malfoy. "It... is a bit... surprising, but it is a nice gesture. I... appreciate... her going through all that trouble for me." 

Draco snorted. "Whatever, Granger. Breakfast is at nine, and my cousins arrive at ten. Sephone is already here - she's in the room across the hall if you need anything. Good night." He turned, stalking off, leaving me with a frown on my face. He wasn't acting his usual self. 

Shrugging, I closed the door, turning to take a second look at the room. It was rather garish, and none of the furniture matched. Though the bed looked comfortable, and at that point, I couldn't have cared if ti was painted in that hideously bright shade of orange Ron's room at the Burrow was. That thought made my eyes tear up, and I firmly banished the idea of crying. They'd not be losing sleep over this, and neither would I, for pity's sake. 

I didn't sleep well that night, startling awake at every unfamiliar noise. I didn't trust Mr. Malfoy, at least, not to try and murder me in my sleep. The result of which, I was very irritable the next morning as I went down the stairs, yawning. 

"Good morn..." Mrs. Malfoy's voice trailed off as she turned to see me. "Gracious! Don't you dress before you eat breakfast at home?" She looked appalled to see me with a dressing robe over my pajamas, fluffy slippers poking out from underneath. "Back upstairs with you! Oh, mother would be having hysterics if she were here." 

I wanted to growl as she expertly herded me back to my room, where I got no chance to retaliate as she flung open the wardrobe, and inspected the contents before she tossed me a set of robes with a disapproving frown. Flicking the door closed, she looked at me expectantly. 

"Well? Don't just stand that, get dressed!" She glared at me, and I wanted nothing more dearly than to scream a few choice insults at her, and go home. Except I'd end up dead. Blasted woman. 

She did have the decency to turn away as I reluctantly dressed in the robes I'd been handed - which were, coincidentally, not mine. Afterwards, she gave me a critical once-over before nodding, and seating me in front of the vanity. I'd never seen anyone do so many hair charms in such a short period of time in my life. Hmph. It didn't take a genius to figure out how she dealt with her hair. Lazy woman. 

"Much better. Now you're ready for breakfast." She smiled sweetly at me, and I managed to return it - at least, I put something resembling a smile on my face. "Now, come on, Lucius will be down by now, and Draco had best be." 

I followed her back down, my temper worse than it had been earlier. That woman did bring out the worst in people. Perhaps that was why Draco was such a prat. Speaking of him, he looked no more pleased to be awake and dressed at that hour of the holiday than I was. 

"Good morning, Draco. Good morning, Lucius." Mrs. Malfoy greeted her son and husband with the same chilly nod of the head. I wondered if there was a name and medication for her mental condition. Sweet, kind and motherly on moment, a cold, vicious bitch the next. 

"Good morning, Narcissa." Mr. Malfoy was trying to ignore my existence entirely, which suited me just fine. Much better than, say, trying to kill me. 

A clattering down the stairs made me turn, in time to avoid being plowed into as Sephone came running into the room. "Sorry I'm late, Aunt Cissa, Uncle Lucius! The house-elves forgot to wake me up." 

Well, from the smirk Draco was trying to hide, I didn't think the house-elves forgot to wake her up. "Mm. Considering Draco's habit of causing other people trouble, I suspect they didn't forget at all." It's amazing how quickly a quietly spoken sentence can get everyone's attention. 

Mr. Malfoy had a very... interesting expression on his face. I got the impression I was supposed to be scared. "How dare you speak of my son like that, Mudblood!" 

"Easily," I muttered as he continued to rant. Azkaban certainly hadn't helped him with anger management. Mrs. Malfoy was looking faintly irritated, and Sephone was glaring at Draco. Lovely start to the morning, all in all. 

Breakfast was a silent affair, with Sephone shooting daggers at Draco, Lucius glowering at everyone, and Mrs. Malfoy valiantly trying to ignore the tension in the room. The food was probably excellent, but it still tasted like ash, and sat in my stomach like a lump of lead, especially after the food was cleared away, and we went into another room, this one with a fire on the hearth. 

Sephone plopped herself down on the chaise next to me, smiling. "I'm glad you decided to come, Hermione, even though Aunt Cissa is a dragon at times. With Lisette, we'll outnumber the boys this year, and maybe we can avoid their usual antics. Tomas still likes to leave frogs and other slimy things in Lisette's ed, and when he stays here over Christmas holiday, he likes to include me on his pranks." 

"Hush, Sephone. You two and Lisette will have plenty of time to talk after she arrives." Mrs. Malfoy shot a sharp glance at us, her eyes practically shooting sparks. A dragon, indeed. 

A moment later, the fire flared green, and a black-haired woman with dark blue eyes stepped out, followed by a girl about my age with a very similar appearance. Lisette squealed with delight when she spotted Sephone and me on the chaise, and bounded over, despite her mother's sharp command not to. Mrs. Lestrange was glaring at me, clearly displeased. 

She didn't have a chance to voice her disapproval of my existence before her husband and son emerged from the fire. Mr. Lestrange didn't look pleased either, but the boy, Tomas, looked delighted. And not in a pleasant way, either. 

"Bella, Rudy, it's so good of you to come." Mrs. Malfoy took charge of the situation, going forward to embrace her sister and brother-in-law. "We have an extra guest over for the holidays. Aunt Meri has been singing her praises, and The Lady is very fond of her." I later discovered that Professor McGonagall was known as ÔThe Lady' to most Death Eaters, and that pissing her off had been known to get people killed. Convenient, that. 

"Ah. I see." Mrs. Lestrange's voice was colder than the day outside. "What did you say her name was?" 

"Hermione, come here and meet my sister, Bellatrix, and her husband, Rudolphus." Mrs. Malfoy waved me over, and the two other girls gave me sympathetic looks. I would be glad when that was over, and I could return to Hogwarts. 

~~~ ~~~ 

I was woken up on Christmas Eve by Sephone and Lisette pouncing and dragging me out of bed. They had gleeful expressions on their faces, and I wondered what they were planning. 

"Is there a reason I'm being woken up early?" Alright, I was already awake, but still, I'd been enjoying a good book. 

"Uncle Tom and Aunt Min are here, and so are Aunt Ri and Aunt Meri. There are some others, but Aunt Cissa told us to get you up, and Draco and Tomas. Come on!" 

I went pale, then headed for the wardrobe, pulling out a dark, sapphire blue dress robe mum and dad had bought me for this year. I hoped everyone was being civil downstairs, but was fearing I'd find a mess. I forgot that Meri and Ri has been doing this for years. 

"Hermione. How has your stay been?" Professor McGonagall was looking at me with concern. Behind her, Professor Snape and Voldemort were talking, with Mr. Malfoy. Meri was standing with Remus, and an elegant lady I didn't recognize, and he looked tense and wary, for which I couldn't blame him. Ri was sitting near the fireplace with Sirius standing behind her radiating anger and annoyance. 

"I've been fine, Professor." I replied calmly as Lisette and Tomas went over to Ri, dragging Draco with them. "Though it is quite an experience." Not one I wanted to repeat anywhere in the near future, though. 

Meri turned at that moment, and smiled, waving for me and Sephone to come over. McGonagall waved me along, and Sephone, who'd attached herself to me for the time being, followed. 

"Hermione, Sephone, my dear! Sephone, you remember your cousin, Remus?" I blinked at the question as Sephone nodded, her eyes wary. I hadn't know Remus had a cousin. Of course, I never had asked. 

"Well, I must introduce you to this adorable young woman he's been courting recently. Alysta, this is my niece Tasia's daughter, Sephone Medeux, and Min's student, Hermione Granger. Sephone, Hermione, this is Alysta Necromancien." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sephone, Hermione." Alysta had a low alto voice with a slight accent to it. She smiled at us, her hand tucked neatly into Remus's arm. "Remus has spoken of you both, and I have been looking forward to meeting you." 

"Thank you." I returned the smile with one of my own, though it was a bit strained. I just wished life would settle into something of a routine again, at least for awhile. Preferably without Draco shadowing my every move. 

"You're very kind," was Sephone's reply, and she was now watching Alysta with the same wary concern she'd been watching Remus with a few moments before. "Cousin Remus didn't bite you, did he?" she blurted out, and I nearly groaned as Remus blushed, and Meri looked scandalized. 

"Sephone Anas..." She was interrupted by peals of laughter, and an upraised hand by Alysta. 

"Oh, do not scold her. It is a valid question." She grinned, merriment in her eyes. "Though I never expected it to be asked of me. Sweet child, I was born a werewolf. It is a long story, and not one to be told before breakfast. Perhaps later, though." 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 

Author's Note: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, and I hope you enjoed this one as well! In response to a question over at Fiction Alley, I have created a road map to the pure-blood families in this story, and in those that I hope will follow. You can find at - newly updated to fix a couple of errors. 

Herminethebest - Thank you. I'm glad you like it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. 

And for all readers, I live on reviews. I'd love to know what you think of the story, even if you don't like it a lot - let me know what you like, or don't like, or ask me questions if you have any. I'll try to answer them if I don't have answers later in the story... 


	5. Easter Troubles

**Chapter 5 – Easter Troubles**

We heard the story later that day. Her heritage is a blend of pure-blood wizarding families, Veela and werewolf lines. And apparently well suited to Remus, since he married her a few years later. She isn't with us - she's with Sephone and them, God knows where.

I do hope they escaped the country, since they don't have anyone to hold them back, like we have Tom and Elizabeth. Neither of whom we would leave behind. Remus would be with them, but he had distracted the Ministry Aurors when they had to run from their last hiding spot, and couldn't follow them, and possibly lead the Aurors right to them. Easier to lose them headed for us. No one expects a fugitive to head deeper into enemy territory. And he's worrying about Alysta again...

But there's nothing we can do except wait, and run again when we must. Reminds me of the time between Christmas and Easter of my sixth year, almost. All I could do was keep up with classes, and wait for Draco to pull whatever he was going to that day. He followed me when he could, interrogated my dorm-mates - in general made a nuisance of himself.

Easter. Oh, Easter was no more fun than Christmas. I began to regret ever overhearing that bloody conversation when Easter came around, almost more than I regretted making that bet. It's amazing how much teenage boys and old women have in common - at the time, I couldn't decide which was more irritating.

* * *

"Good morning, Granger." Draco's silky purr in my ear made me jump, and others at the Gryffindor table glared at him as he sat beside me. I had gotten used to referring to him as Draco in my mind, though we were still not on a first-name basis. Though who knew, at this rate, we'd be friends before the year was out.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" I was snappish - combination of the time of the month, and his uncharacteristic behavior. He had never been so bold as to sit at the Gryffindor table, and the fact he would made me nervous. I only had to make it through two more months without him winning the bet, and I wouldn't have to deal with him for a whole year.

He spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture, assuming an air of injured innocence. Very amusing, but difficult to believe. "Must everything I do have dome devious purpose? I'm hurt you cannot believe I might not have a nefarious plot in mind."

"When you always have some under-handed reason for your actions, it is next to impossible to believe you would not, even just once."

He shrugged, a smirk replacing his earlier expression. "There might be some merit in that statement, Granger. But if I must tell you..."

I glared when he trailed off, raising one eyebrow expectantly at him. "Well, Malfoy?"

"Are you really certain you want to discuss it here? After all, I don't think Potter or Weasley are too pleased to see me here." He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Of course, if you care to have your weak..."

"Not here, Malfoy!" I snapped. Dear Lord, I hoped her was not going on about what I thought he was. He could not have discovered anything that would win that bloody bet.

His smirk widened in triumph, and he leaned in close, whispering into my ear, "Tonight, meet me in the prefect's bathroom." He was gone before I could reply, and I glared at his back as he sauntered over to the Slytherin table. Arrogant, stuck-up, damned irritating, disturbingly sexy bastard... wait a minute! Sexy? How, in the name of all that's holy, did that creep in my thoughts?

I turned my attention back to my food, pushing it around as I thought. All right. I wasn't as shocked and irritated as I would have been six months earlier. He was sexy, and handsome, I had to give him that. The problem was, he was very much aware of his own good looks, and willing to flaunt them to get what he wanted.

Hmm. Though why had he come over to the Gryffindor table? It was very uncharacteristic of him, even though he was a complete and utter prat - displaying his complete lack of anything resembling decency or good manners, as usual. Oh, I'd probably find out why later...

"Hermione, what was Malfoy saying to you?" Ginny had sat herself across from me, her hazel eyes fixing me with a penetrating stare. "You went very red a moment ago - did he say something very rude?"

I'd give her full marks for concern, and worry about the why later. She was the only one of my old friends still willing to talk to me. Scratch that. She's the only Gryffindor still willing to talk me. After I arrived on Platform 9&3/4 with the Malfoys after Christmas holiday, they'd avoided me like the plague.

"Something like that. Not something to repeat in mixed company, certainly." I shuddered for effect, something I'd perfected over the Christmas holiday. Had that really only been three months before? I wished it had been longer. By at least two months.

Ginny frowned, concern still in her eyes. "Be careful, Hermione. I don't trust how he's been acting around you recently." She paused, leaning forward suddenly, grabbing my hand. "Promise me you won't go off alone with him, Hermione."

"What?" I was startled, to say the least, and pulled my hand away.

"Promise me you won't go off somewhere alone with him. I know, you're old enough to take care of yourself, but still, please, be careful. Malfoy's dangerous." She shot a glare at the blond sitting at Slytherin table. "I don't trust him further than I could throw him without magic."

You're speaking to someone who has had to deal with him more than her own house-mates for the last three months, Ginny. Do you think I don't know that?

"I know, Ginny. I'll be careful, I promise." I smiled at her, hopefully reassuringly. "I don't trust him much, either." Though I could guarantee I probably trusted him more than she did. A great deal more than she did.

She sat back in her seat again, the frown of concern not yet wiped off her face. Hmph. My personal life shouldn't be her concern anyway. Nosy little brat.

"So long as you're careful, I guess." She returned her attention to her food in time to miss my baleful stare. I wondered how quickly I could leave without raising anyone's concern. Of course, considering that none of my house-mates would care if I ceased to exist...

Ginny looked up with a question in her eyes as I stood to leave. "I just remembered I left my Transfiguration homework in my dorm, and I should fetch it before class." I smiled brightly, turning to go.

"I'll come with you."

* * *

I crept out of the Gryffindor dorms, leaving Ginny sleeping off a draught of potion. She'd followed me all day, except into my classes, and made a serious nuisance of herself. A pity she didn't follow me into Potions. Knowing Draco does have some advantages.

Ron had left earlier, grumbling about rounds, so I didn't have to worry about him deciding to shadow my every move again. I still had not forgiven him those weeks between the detention with Draco and the Christmas holiday. And professors would be no worry, since I was a prefect. I hurried to the bathroom, wanting to know what Draco had been going on about that morning.

He was waiting when I came in, leaning casually against the wall. "You're late, Granger." He was watching me, the expression on his face unusually intense. It was disconcerting, and I suppressed a shiver.

"What did you want to talk about, Malfoy?" I crossed my arms, unconsciously mimicking his stance, narrowing my eyes as I waited for an answer.

He didn't say anything, just stalked towards me, backing me up until I was pressed against the wall before putting a hand to either side of me.

"Malfoy..."

"Draco." He interrupted me, his face twisting in an odd expression. "Call me Draco."

I regarded him with shock, and no little amount of wary surprise a moment before I spoke again. "Draco, what did you want..."

His lips cut off the rest of my question, rough and demanding against my own. I squeaked in surprise, my eyes widening as I brought my hands up to shove him away. He didn't budge, except to being one hand up to cradle the back of my head, preventing me from pulling away. What did he think he was doing?

"I thought we were here to talk, Draco," I managed to get out when he finally lifted his head to look at me lazily.

"Oh?" His tone was one of affected surprise, and I narrowed my eyes in suspicion once more. "Did I give you that impression?"

"You began a discussion this morning, one that I would not care to have made public. When you indicated you would meet me here this evening, I was under the impression it would be to continue that discussion in a more discreet venue then the Great Hall at breakfast." I glared at him as he looked thoughtful a moment.

"I suppose you would think that pretext had more substance than it actually did." He shook his head, leaning in towards me again. "Call it a little added incentive for you to come here tonight." He was angling for another kiss, one hand coming to rest on my waist. The utter gall of him!

My hand came up sharply, the crack of flesh hitting flesh echoing throughout the room. Draco pulled back, shock briefly showing on his face as an ominous silence descended. Then his eyes went cold, and he took a step back to put some distance between us. I watched him, warily fingering my wand as I waited for him to do something.

"If that is how you wish to play it, Miss Granger." When he spoke, his tones were glacial, and he turned, leaving without a backward glance. What, in God's name, went on in his head? Not that I honestly wanted to know. But sometimes I wondered.

I soon left myself, confused by Draco's behavior. Thank goodness I was leaving for the Easter holiday in the morning. One whole blessed week without Draco's antics, Ron's baleful glares, or Harry's stony silence. Or Ginny's constant questions.

The common room was unusually empty when I returned, and I paused at the door. It wasn't quite midnight, and there should have been at least a few people around. There were none, not that I could see. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and let my wand drop into my fingers.

"You won't need that." Ginny's voice came from one of the chairs turned so I couldn't see the occupant. "We just want to talk to you - as odd as that sounds."

"Who's 'we'?" I kept my grip on my wand, just in case. Draco had rubbed off on me some during the previous months.

Ginny stood, as did her companions, and I nearly groaned. No wonder she didn't have to follow me into any of my classes. Padma had most of the same classes I did, and Hannah was in the ones she wasn't. And she must have had one of them, or Luna, since she was there as well, follow me that night. I wondered if anyone knew we had an accomplished spy mistress in our midst.

"So you're watching me?" I tried to use the same nonchalant tone Draco always was using, and it still came out annoyingly matter-of-fact. "Do you have at least a halfway decent excuse for doing so?"

Ginny smiled, indicating the seat they'd apparently left open for me. When I didn't take it, Pavarti materialized from the shadows beside me, startling me, and took my elbow to guide me towards the chair. They were not going to let me wiggle out of whatever it was they had planned. Not easily. And what they had planned was what I had wanted to know before they could trap me - a moot point by then, to be sure.

"I wish we didn't have to do this like this, but you are bloody difficult to get a hold of outside of class or the library." Ginny seated herself once more, a subtle nod to Luna making the Ravenclaw put up silencing wards. At least they were wary of prying ears. One merely hoped no one could read lips. "We need to talk to you about Malfoy."

Devoutly hoped.

"What about Draco?" Oh, curse him! I made a mental note to hurt him later. Especially with the way Ginny and Luna exchanged looks. Easy to tell who her second in command was.

"Draco?" Padma raised an eyebrow. "You weren't on a first name basis this morning." Or perhaps I was wrong about her having a second in command.

"People change."

"Rarely do they change from tossing insults at each other to using first names in a single day."

"It can happen." I really didn't want to talk to them about Draco, or any other subject that would inevitably lead to.

A look from Ginny kept Padma silent when she opened her mouth to speak again.

"We just wanted to know why he's been interrogating everyone who knows you, Hermione." Ginny smiled, as if trying to soothe a fretful child. I could quite easily and cheerfully consign her to Azkaban at that moment.

"Do you still talk to your brother or Harry?" If she did, she wouldn't have to be asking me about...

"They refuse to speak about you."

Oh, bloody hell. I hadn't known that. Mm. She hadn't stopped speaking, blasted woman. I did mention I could wish her to hell right now, didn't I?

"Ron looks like he's about to have a fit if someone mentions your name, and stalks off in a snit whenever you enter the common room. Harry just stays silent, and constantly watches you, as if waiting for something." Ginny frowned. "Which is something else that puzzles me. What happened to make my brother dislike you so much?"

I straightened, my expression closing. "I do not presume to understand how your brother's mind works, and I am not going to permit this interrogation to continue. There are sometimes secrets better left untouched, Ginny Weasley, and if you continue to dig at this one, you will regret it." I meant it, too, though I at the time I didn't realize how far it would all go.

I stood, stalking towards the stairs. Pavarti tried to stop me, and I gave her the Death Glare, making her blanch, and step aside. I didn't want to deal with them at that point, though I wondered why I had let them start in the first place. Perhaps because someone in my own house was willing to speak to me, outside of being forced to in class.

Once to my dorm, I made sure my trunk was packed before changing, and climbing into bed. Crookshanks leapt up, curling into a ball of ginger fur on my stomach. He didn't purr loudly, as he normally would, but softly, as if trying to comfort me, I thought. And perhaps I needed it, as tears rolled down my cheeks silently.

What was going on? Everything was still strange, still new and confusing. Voldemort had not asked that I come back to the Riddle mansion again, something that should have been a relief, but only served to make me more anxious. Draco hadn't showed any sign of... well, anything other than being his usual self until he had kissed me earlier in the bathroom, nearly twice. And Ginny. I didn't understand her actions that night, anymore than I understood my own. Or even what she was after with that interrogation. Oh, why wouldn't life make sense?

That night, once again, I cried myself to sleep.

* * *

During the ride to King's Cross Station the next morning, I kept my gaze fixed out the window, ignoring the fact I had no one in the compartment with me. I didn't care at that point - all I wanted was to hide, especially since I'd seen Draco boarding the train.

Really, he was only a useless, manipulative prat who played with people like Ron played chess. Arrogant, self-centered, and altogether someone I could well do without, thank you. So why was he still invading my thoughts? And why couldn't I forget the way he kissed?

And for God's sake, what had he meant by that last, cryptic remark?

"Arrogant bastard," I muttered, watching London peek into sight over the horizon. "What do you mean 'If that is how you wish to play it'? Play what?"

"Talking to yourself?"

I jumped, turning to see Ginny in the seat across from me. I had been so sunk in my thoughts I hadn't noticed her enter.

"How long have you been here?"

Ginny shrugged. "Not very long. I didn't really hear what you said, though." She smiled, and I raised an eyebrow. "Honest, Hermione, I noticed you muttering, but I couldn't make out the words."

I let it go with a shrug. If she had heard me, she wouldn't let on, and I had other things to worry about. Like what Draco was up to, and why I called him by his first name in my thoughts, and what he meant by that remark. Or why, blast it, I couldn't get him out of my thoughts, for that matter.

"I'm looking forward to the holiday. What about you, Hermione?" Ginny was not going to let me remain silent, unfortunately.

I shrugged. "It will be nice to get away from the silent treatment, but I will miss the intellectual stimulation of classes." A nice, neutral, non-committal response.

"Mum and Dad are trying to convince Aunt Sammie to come for the week, without her girlfriend, preferably. Though Aunt Rini is really cool." Oh, would she let me be? I don't want to talk to her. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"You've been really quiet and withdrawn lately, Hermione. More than usual." Ginny's voice was full of concern. "I'm worried about you."

"And if you were treated like a carrier of plague by your house-mates simply for associating with one of their rivals, you would be withdrawn too!" I snapped, glaring at her. Honestly, perhaps she should look at the behavior of those around me, too. People do not thrive in a social vacuum.

She looked taken aback a moment. "Not all of them would have refused to talk if you'd tried striking up a conversation."

"Well, I apologize for not being the world's greatest conversation starter, but I prefer a discussion that does not involve a dissection of my personal life, and a verbal shredding of my taste in friends. At least Malfoy was always a prat, so it wasn't anything new!"

"Hermione, this isn't about Malfoy." Ginny was beginning to look worried for herself. I'm not normally that temperamental.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is it? You were awfully interested in him last night. Him, and what I was doing with him."

"Because I was worried about you, and I don't trust him. I don't understand what you see in him that you think he's safe to talk to."

"Perhaps I talk to him because he is the only person my age who doesn't act like I've grown a second head." No, he acted like I was a very odd new species all together, that intrigued him. And he continued being an annoying git - his usual self, unlike everyone else. What was wrong with being on speaking terms with a Slytherin? Professor McGonagall was.

Actually, she's on more than speaking terms with a Slytherin. Ew. Gross. Not an image I needed, thank you! I had seen her and Voldemort kissing under some mistletoe during the Christmas holiday, and I wished I hadn't.

Some of my discomfort must have shown on my face, because Ginny frowned, and opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't say anything, Ginny. I don't want to talk about it." I glared at her until she subsided, then returned to watching the scenery. It made for an awkward silence until we got to King's Cross Station, but I was beyond caring.

Mum and dad were waiting for me as I got off the train, excited expressions on their faces that made a rock of dread settle in my stomach, as I wondered what was going on.

"Hermione, dear, you won't believe what happened last weekend! We have to hurry, or we'll be late." Mum was beaming as dad took my trunk, leaving me with Crookshanks in his cage.

"Late for what?" I didn't like the sound of this.

"Ms. Grey came over last weekend, and she was so nice. She wanted to make sure you received her invitation to dinner tonight, and she decided to invite us as well. She is a very nice woman, Meri is. She even said she'd make sure someone came for us around four, so we were able to arrive there."

"Meri invited us for dinner?" I received an exasperated look and a nod from mum as they put my trunk in the car, and I slid into the back seat with Crookshanks on my lap. What did Meri have planned? I know she wouldn't wish harm on anyone, but Ri, and some of her other friends...

And why couldn't they let me enjoy a holiday with just my parents, anyway?

* * *

It was a picnic dinner, at a house just a few miles from Cynwyl Elfed - I found that out later - and there were already a number of people gathered on the lawn when we arrived. Meri greeted me as she had at Christmas, smiling at my parents.

"I am so glad you could make it, Eileen, Robert, and I do hope Remus and Alysta didn't frighten you too much. I know Muggles aren't accustomed to traveling like that, but it was the only way for you to arrive on time." She was referring to the spell Alysta had used to get us all here - it worked akin to Apparition, apparently, but was less well known, and it could be used on large groups of people if necessary. Meri continued to chatter, leading my parents off towards the others. I would have followed, if I hadn't been ambushed by two girls, neither of whom could have been older than ten.

"Hello. I've heard about you. You're Hermione Granger, aren't you? My cousin's friend." The one with brightly red hair spoke first. "Sephone told me all about you in her letters, and she sent the pictures from Christmas holiday. You're very pretty, that's what Julian says."

I blinked, a bit surprised. She looked like a Weasley, and I'd thought she'd say her cousin was Ron. Or Ginny. The other girl, with serious black eyes, and black hair, piped up before I could reply.

"Emily was telling me about you, and Uncle Sev said you were an irritating show-off. Emily say Sephone didn't say that, so it couldn't be true, but I know my Uncle Sev wouldn't lie."

"So we decided to find out ourselves. Aristelle found out from Aunt Meri you were supposed to be here, and we waited for you to show up with cousin Remus and his girlfriend." Emily smiled, apparently quite pleased with herself.

I raised one eyebrow, looking between the two a moment before replying in the expectant silence the had fallen between us. "They're both right."

Emily frowned, her brow wrinkling in confusion, while Aristelle crowed in delight. "I told you Uncle wouldn't lie, Emily!"

"But how can they both be right? How can you be both what my cousin says you are, and what Aristelle's uncle says you are?" Emily looked up at me, still confused.

"Because Uncle Sev has to teach her, and she's my friend, Em." Sephone spoke behind me, making me jump, startled. "Sorry, Hermione, didn't mean to scare you." She grinned as I glared at her.

"Oi, Seph!" A boy was headed for us, a broom in hand. I thought I recognized him as a fourth year Ravenclaw, though I didn't know his name. "Are ye an' yer friend going' tae gab with thae babies, or will ye bring yer broom down tae race with thae rest o' us?"

"Hey! Don't you call me a baby, Julian Grey!" Emily swung a fist at him as he came up, and Julian caught it with a good-natured grin.

"It's all in fun, Em. Well, Seph? Ye comin'?" He tilted his head, looking almost like a bird.

"If you drop that fake accent, Julian, Hermione and I will come race. Let me grab my broom from the car first, though." Sephone grinned at Julian, grabbing my hand, and dragging me towards a sleek little Ferrari. "It's good to see Aunt Meri invited you to the picnic. Did your parents come with you this time? I'm sure Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur will be glad if they have - they don't exactly get along with some of Aunt Meri's guests." She continued to chatter, overriding every attempt on my part to get a word in edgewise, and her fingers were as difficult to pry off as an iron manacle.

I dug in my heels as she headed down towards the others, a Nimbus 2001 in her free hand, jerking her to a halt only when I found a sturdily planted rock to brace against. She turned, falling silent a moment. Long enough for me to get a word in.

"I am not racing, Sephone. And I don't see why I have to come watch you, and whoever else is down there waiting for you race." Not to mention I suspected Ginny would be down there, and there was no way I was going to be forced to deal with her.

"Because everyone our age will be down there. And later we'll probably convince the adults to play Quidditch. At least come watch, Hermione. Only the babies and Jason aren't racing, and you, of course. Please?"

I shook my head. "No. I would rather not watch people racing when there is potential for conversation, even if those with whom I talk are not in my age group." I pulled my wrist from her now relaxed grip, rubbing my wrist as I turned and stalked back towards the adults. I heard Julian and Lisette yell for Sephone to join them, and a moment later there was a sigh behind me as she went down to join them.

I scanned the gathered adults as I crested the hill again, recognizing a number of them. My parents were talking with the Weasleys and a couple I didn't recognize, apparently doing fine on their own. Which meant they didn't need me, and I couldn't use that as an excuse to stay near them until we could find a convenient point to leave.

Sirius was deep in conversation with a black-haired women, the two seated on the porch of the house, and ignored by virtually everyone. I thought perhaps she was related to the Merdeux family, as she did have a certain resemblance in facial structure. No help from that corner, even had he been willing to lend it. Something about the Christmas holiday had not sat well with Sirius, and he'd been ignoring me ever since. And he had no way of contacting Harry, not with Ri keeping him cooped up in her house.

And that woman was ensconced in a lawn chair, holding court with Meri, Remus, Alysta, and a couple I didn't recognize. Though considering the gathering, there had to be some family ties in there. Most of the people on the lawn were related, if I remembered the family trees I'd seen correctly. It is a bit mind-boggling when you look at pure-blood family trees. I don't think there is one pure-blood wizard in all of Britain - or Europe, for that matter - that isn't related to every other pure-blooded wizard. With the connection within the last four generations.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard my name called by a most unlikely person.

"Miss Granger." I turned to face Professor Snape, and the small group he was with. The woman beside him was watching me curiously, her black eyes scanning me from head to toe as if examining me for some flaw. It was quite unnerving, and I shifted uneasily as I came to a stop near the group.

"Let me introduce you to my sister, Maris Lord." He had a bland, unreadable expression on his face, though I received the distinct impression this wasn't his idea, and he'd be perfectly happy to have let me wander between the groups looking lost.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger." The woman, Mrs. Lord, smiled at me, reaching out to shake my hand. "I was curious about you, since my sister-in-law was commenting on Madame Grey's latest project. Severus is not nearly as generous in his opinion of you, but those who teach us rarely are."

That was new. People saw me as Meri's project? I mentally shook my head in confusion. What kind of project did they see me as? And for Merlin's sake, what did she have in mind for me? And could I get out of this before I was dragged any deeper?

"Likewise meeting you, Mrs. Lord." I had to keep up my end of the conversation, and not allow my thoughts to show in my expression. I was already getting the hang of surviving in this part of wizarding society. I hoped. "I hope you haven't heard too many horror stories from the Professor."

She laughed lightly, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. "Oh no. Not that I would entirely believe any stories Severus told me. He is prone to exaggeration at times." There was a sadness in her eyes as she spoke, for only a brief moment, and I wondered as it vanished if I had perhaps only imagined it. "But I'm sure we will have the chance to talk later, and you probably wish to join the other teenagers down by the racing strip, so I will not pester you with questions now."

"Actually, I'm not much for watching sports - unless you count Quidditch games at school, when Gryffindor is playing." I had been offered a gracious bow out, and I declined to take it. Perhaps that was a mistake. "I prefer an intelligent conversation, and I'm afraid I don't have the chance for such very often at Hogwarts."

"Really? Oh, I suppose you wouldn't have much chance to talk with Severus's godson - Draco, isn't it? - all that often, with you being in rival houses and all. Lucius and Narcissa's son, if I'm not much mistaken. A pity, really. That you haven't the chance to speak with him much. I hear he is the top student in his house, and second in the school. Quite a pride to Slytherin, and a credit to his breeding, that."

"Yes, of course," I murmured, trying not to grind my teeth. I really was beginning to detest hearing about Draco-bloody-Malfoy. I didn't care how good-looking he was, and I had to admit, he was quite sexy... No. When did the word sexy become part of my description of Draco? Nor did I care that he was intelligent. He was an irritating, arrogant prat!

I spent the next hour trying to keep a smile pasted on my face while enduring small talk with a variety of people I didn't know, wishing I had bowed out earlier, and gone to watch the racing with Sephone.

"Mama, papa!" Speak of the devil. I was standing where I could watch them come up, and blanched as two very familiar faces came over the crest of the hill. Harry and Ron were on either side of Julian, the trio arguing about something. I didn't want to know what, and swiftly turned to the nearest person, hoping to engage them in conversation.

Unfortunately, the return of everyone else under eighteen appeared to be a signal to adjourn to a field that bore a strong resemblance to a Quidditch pitch, and had some fairly strong Muggle-repelling charms on it - to judge by how much effort it took to get my parents to where picnic blankets were laid out with baskets. I slipped over to them as the teams were chosen, hoping to sit with them and the Weasleys.

"Hermione! Come, your parents simply must sit over with us!" Meri smiled at me, and I sighed, following her to a blanket where Narcissa and Ri waited, the two women doing an admirable job of not showing their distaste - I should say disgust, to be honest - for Muggles. I shot a glance across the field, where the Weasleys - those not in the air playing - had settled around their picnic basket, along with Remus and Sirius, and the two women they'd been with. And another woman I didn't know. I wished I could be over there, eating with them.

"Sit, Hermione. The game is about to start." Meri sat me next to Narcissa, with my parents on the other side of me, her between Ri and them. I gave one last look across the field before turning my attention to the game, unable to summon up an appetite for the feast that was pulled from the basket.

* * *

I collapsed into my bed at nearly dawn, exhausted. The Quidditch game had lasted until nearly two in the morning, when Maris snatched the snitch from just ahead of Harry's fingertips. Narcissa had regaled us with stories of the younger Snape sibling, and her exploits on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Six years she'd played for them as seeker, and she'd only ever lost a game to Charlie Weasley, which Narcissa claimed was luck. Personally, I think Maris had some luck that night. Her broom was a modified version of the Firebolt, and it was faster and more responsive than Harry's standard Firebolt.

At that point, I only hoped they'd let me have the rest of my holiday to myself. With my parents, and no one else. I didn't even want to see Harry or Ron at that point. Yes, it was nice that Harry got to find out Sirius was alive and well, and Ron too. And for them to find a new friend in Julian Grey. But I wanted none of it. None of the wizarding world and it's cut-throat politics and scheming and violence.

Especially after a Bludger was 'accidentally' helped in my direction - or perhaps Narcissa's - by Ron. He was pulled from the game, but it didn't change the fact that the incident hurt. I felt tears creep down my cheeks, hot tears of anger and frustration. What did life have against me?


	6. That Which Does Not Kill Me

**Chapter 6 – That Which Does Not Kill Me**

I've since come to the conclusion that Fate hates everyone equally. It's that universal dislike that makes everyone feel they're included in something. And if Fate didn't hate everyone equally, Ginny and Sirius wouldn't be here with Tom, Min, and my small family. We're somewhere in Kent now, heading for Dover. It's only a short crossing to Calais, and hopefully Tom can make it that far. To that chance at freedom.

Draco's standing behind me, his hand on the back of my neck. I wish we had the privacy to indulge in such games, but with only one room for everyone, it's impossible. I'll not have an audience, as much as I love him.

Of course, as he reminds me, there was a time when I wasn't sure I wanted privacy, though I had it. That day so close to finals of our sixth year. I've always thought he waited until then on purpose. To throw me off, and get the best grades. Not that he succeeded in beating me out for the top of the class. I wasn't that far off my game.

* * *

I was watching the morning owls for my paper, and perhaps a letter back from my parents, when a regal, and far too familiar owl came swooping in to land next to my plate. I made a mental note to harm a Malfoy. Which one remained to be seen, as the owl waited patiently for me to remove the note tied to its leg.

I fed it a piece of my bacon before looking at the note, and I pressed my lips together when I saw Draco's careless writing across the front. I broke the seal, and scanned the words, feeling the blood draining from my face.

__

Granger,

Meet me tonight at midnight on the Quidditch pitch. You can come alone, or bring someone with you. Just be sure you can trust them with your most precious secrets. You wouldn't want someone using them against you, after all.

Draco Malfoy

Pushing away from the table, I scooped up a couple slices of toast before heading for the greenhouse. I still had most of twenty minutes before my Herbology class started, but I had no intention of staying in the Great Hall. Ginny would want to know what was wrong, and Harry and Ron would glare when they actually came down for breakfast.

I set up my books and gear next to the seat Susan normally occupied, mentally dragging up who else sat at that table. Padma and another Ravenclaw, a boy. Terry Boot, that was it. None of the Gryffindors who hated me for speaking with Malfoy, and no Slytherins to sneer at me for being Muggle-born.

I saw the surprise on Susan's face as she walked in, but she said nothing, merely settling into her seat beside me. Padma and Terry weren't far behind, and the rest of the class trickled in behind them. All three of the troublesome boys in my life looked puzzled when they saw I wasn't in my usual seat. Even though Harry and Ron pretty much despised me, I'd always sat with them and Neville.

My jaw clenched, and I lifted my chin, giving them my haughtiest glare. It made Draco, the little prat, smirk, but the bewildered look on Harry's face, and the shock on Ron's were well worth it. It was time I stopped letting them make me feel miserable because they don't like the idea that I don't think of Draco as evil incarnate.

* * *

Ginny cornered me in my dorm while Lavender and Pavarti were down in the common room that evening, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

"What was in that note this morning that has you finally acting like you're not a pariah, Hermione? You've certainly got Harry and Ron's attention. Though they're trying to figure out what you did to, or with, Malfoy."

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing, Ginny." I wasn't even going to look up from my revisions for this conversation. She didn't need to know what was going on.

There was an exasperated sigh from the doorway, and I looked up as my papers flew out of my lap, to be caught neatly by Ginny. Not that she would find anything incriminating among them. I had burned the note at my first opportunity, knowing her penchant for discovering things I'd like her not to know.

"Now, will you look at me, Hermione?" Ginny had an annoyed look on her face. "What happened this morning? You're actually snubbing Harry and Ron, instead of the other way around, and you've had everyone speculating about what's gotten into you all bloody day."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "Why should that concern me, Ginny? I'm beyond caring what others think about me. Harry and Ron…" I trailed off a moment. It still hurt to think about them, and their rejection of me just because I have secrets I can't share with them.

I shook my head, forcing the hurt back down. "Harry and Ron can go sod off, or accept that I am not going to let them push me around because I do not fit their perception of what I should be. I am tired of trying to make them understand that there are things I cannot share with them, and would not, even if I were permitted. And as for your prodding at my personal life, leave me be, Ginevra Weasley! The contents of that note were for me, and no one else. Do I make myself clear?"

Ginny was blinking at me, her mouth slightly open in shock. "Perfectly." She licked her lips, taking a cautious step towards me, holding out my papers. "You know, if you ever do want to talk, I'll listen. And I'll try not to pry. Or if you need help, you only need to ask."

"I know, Ginny." I kept my tone cool, not willing to show how much I wanted someone to talk to who wasn't in this whole convoluted mess. But if I did that, I would drag her into it, and I still was afraid that what I told her would get back to Ron, or worse, to her parents, or Dumbledore. I could not have that happen. They wouldn't understand the truth, or they'd already be aware of it. I think.

"Then I'll just leave you to your revisions." Ginny set my papers down on the edge of my bed, and walked out, though I could see the tension in her shoulders. She was probably going to wait for me in the common room, and if I wouldn't take her with me when I left, she'd probably follow me.

I sighed. I didn't want to take Ginny along tonight. Especially not if Draco thought he had won the bet. Or at least found some secrets I didn't want shared with the world at large. Or even anyone who wasn't originally involved. Damn them both!

Grinding my teeth, I checked the time. Still another four hours before I was supposed to meet Draco on the Quidditch pitch. Under the stands. The professor's stand. Something vaguely like neutral ground.

I picked up my quill again, and went back to work on my revisions. At least I could keep busy until then.

* * *

I crept down the stairs around eleven-thirty, my eyes darting around the room. It was almost deserted. Except for Ginny and my dorm-mates. They were watching the stairs, and I sighed.

"Waiting up for me?"

Ginny shrugged. "My sources in Slytherin were commenting that Malfoy is awfully nervous tonight. Almost excited. You wouldn't have an idea why, would you, Hermione?"

"And if I did, do you honesty think I would tell you?" I crossed my arms over my chest, knowing this was taking precious time I needed to get the pitch, unseen by anyone else.

"Perhaps." Ginny paused, concern flashing across her face. "We're worried about you, Hermione…"

"Well, don't be!" I snapped. "I can bloody take care of myself, Ginny. I don't need you looking over my shoulder, or trying to protect me from myself, or from Malfoy."

Ginny sighed. "We'll walk with you as far as you want, and then we'll wait for you. Keep an eye out for Filch. Would that be acceptable?"

I ground my teeth. I didn't need to deal with this. "No. You can stay right here. I don't care if you wait up for me, but I still won't tell you anything. I don't need to."

Ginny stood. "That's not going to happen, Hermione. One of us, at least, is going with you, wherever it is you're going. Otherwise, you're not leaving Gryffindor tower."

My hands were balled into fists by the time she finished saying that, and I could feel the heat rising to my face. "You interfering little brat. Fine. You want to come with me, you come. And only you. The goons can stay here."

I stalked towards the portrait hole, mostly ignoring the gasps of outrage from Lavender and Pavarti. Bloody Ginny. Bloody Draco. Bedamned bet. And curse whatever made me curious about the open door in McGonagall's office back in September. If I hadn't overheard that conversation, I wouldn't be here now.

But I had overheard the conversation, I had made the bet, and Ginny and Draco were both striving for the title 'Bane of My Existence'. I couldn't change that. On the other hand, I'll be damned if I let them, or anyone else, drive me to tears again. Or for that matter, push me around. Not without a bloody good reason.

Which brought my thoughts back to the reason I was sneaking out of Gryffindor tower at nearly midnight, and heading for the Quidditch pitch. A place I avoided when there wasn't a game.

The night was warm as we managed to slip out, but I still pulled up the hood of the cloak I'd grabbed before I'd left. I wasn't going to have anyone look out the window, and see me. They might see Ginny, but I didn't care. Let her get into trouble for sneaking out after dark.

"Keep quiet, and don't do anything unless I tell you to," I whispered. "Now, follow me."

I led the way to where Draco was supposed to meet me. He was waiting, as usual, his arms crossed casually over his chest, leaning against one of the supports. His lips curled upward in a smirk when he spotted Ginny and me.

"You were almost late, Granger." He uncrossed his arms, pushing away from the support. "The Weaselette try to keep you from leaving?"

Ginny hissed angrily behind me, and I clenched my jaw.

"She has a name, Draco. You will not insult her in front of me."

"I'll do what I please, Mudblood." His eyes were cold. "Unless, of course, you wish to see your friends hurt. Or perhaps those Muggle parents of yours? I have the connections, and you know it. They could be dead before you wake up in the morning. And you could do nothing to stop me."

The blood drained from my face, leaving me as pale as Malfoy for a long moment before anger surged through me, heating my face until I was sure it was glowing in the dim light. "You sodding bastard. You leave my parents and friends out of this. It is between you and me."

Draco chuckled. "Of course it is, Granger. But you'd do anything to keep them safe, wouldn't you? To keep them alive. And it isn't enough for you for them to be alive and safe. You have to keep their love. You're lost without that."

I shook my head. "And you think this is supposed to make me do what you want me to?"

"I'm not blind, Granger. You've been miserable since you had your little falling out with Potter and Weasley." He paused. "Though you've been remarkably more yourself today. Except for the snubbing Potter and Weasley. It was rather amusing."

I was shaking. With rage or something else, I wasn't sure. Damn him. He was right, though I hated to admit it. I would do anything to keep my friends and family safe. And I'd hide it from them the best I could, if it would lose me their affection. Except that it was a bit late for that with Harry and Ron. Somehow I doubted I'd ever be able to call them my friends again.

"Well, Granger? Nothing to say?"

Narrowing my eyes, I glared at him for a long moment before decking him. The surprise on his face just before my fist connected with his jaw was priceless. "You'll get my free time next year, you useless prat, but this isn't the end of this. You haven't won yet."

I turned to go, grabbing Ginny's elbow. "We're leaving, Ginny." And I'm bloody not going to let that prat win. Just because he won a bet doesn't mean I'll give him the satisfaction of seeing it upset me. No. Not this time.

I snarled the password at the portrait, and stalked into the common room, where Lavender and Pavarti were waiting up. I hadn't thought they'd go to bed before we got back, and it looked like they'd prepared for it to be quite a while. Not just the bare half-hour it had been. Other than noting the fact they were there, though, I ignored them, going up to my dorm to get some sleep. Exams started soon, and I was going to be ready for them.

* * *

After the last of the exams, a little over a week later, I collapsed into my bed with a groan. I hadn't done as well as I had hoped, despite my determination to not let Malfoy get to me. If Harry or Ron had been on speaking terms with me, they would have told me I did fine, that I did better on a bad day than Malfoy could do on a good day. Which was probably true, from their perspective.

But Malfoy was more intelligent than they ever had given him credit for. To be honest, more than I had ever given him credit for, most of the time. And he was bloody perceptive. I groaned again. Mrs. Malfoy. She warned me he was perceptive. Why hadn't I listened to her? And found someway to call the wager off? I'm sure there could have been a way to do so.

Too late for that now. I levered myself up a moment, looking at my belongings. I should pack them. But right at the moment, I didn't care to. I flopped back on the bed. Right at the moment, I just wanted to find a way to mitigate the terms of the wager. There had to be some way. Other than talking to Narcissa, and having her try to make Draco listen. I doubted it would work, for one.

So, talking to his mother was out. Nor did I want to talk to one of the other adults I knew could intervene. Either he wouldn't listen to them, or I would be digging myself into debt up to my eyeballs. Slytherins are good for that. Or Death Eaters, for that matter, I'm sure. Even if not all of them were Slytherins.

I could talk to Ginny, and see what she could do. She had a fairly extensive network of people she used to keep tabs on what was going on in the castle. Possibly outside of it, as well. She could use those contacts to influence things as well, I suspect. But I don't want to ask her for help. I don't want to get her any more involved than she already is. It's dangerous.

For one, if she got any deeper into this, she could discover what happened in October, when I went to meet with Voldemort. And she didn't have the binding oath that I did. She could tell anyone. Turn me over to the Ministry, and then, they might find a way to extract what I knew about the Inner Circle from me. I can't let that happen. I can't.

Which means dealing with this on my own. I sighed, and pushed myself off my bed again. I needed to pack, and I really shouldn't leave it until later. Besides, I'll have all summer to myself, to find a way to ensure that Malfoy didn't get all of my free time. I needed time to study and do homework. That wasn't free time…

I closed my eyes, and contemplated smacking my head on the corner post of my bed. The solution was simple. I told him I needed more time for study and homework than I actually did, and I could have some time to myself. And I'm sure he has other friends who will want to spend time with him that doesn't include having me around.

A smile stretched my face, and I hummed as I began packing. I had a solution to the problem of next year, and all summer to myself. Just me and my parents and no unwelcome invitations from any of those I'd met in October. Unless they'd sent the invitation to my parents again, like Meri had for Easter. That would be quite unpleasant.

I snorted. I was not letting any of them ruin my summer. They could send an invitation, but I was not going to accept it. I wanted the time to myself, the time to spend with my parents, and them alone. Not with Meri or Ri or the Malfoys. Or anyone else of that lot.

Once my trunk was packed once more, I settled onto my bed with a book for the rest of the day. If anyone wanted to talk to me, they could wait until next year. Or perhaps on the train. Maybe.

* * *

I was quite content with the empty compartment I had on the train back, with no one willing to sit with me, not with Ron and Harry still snubbing me. I had a book that I hadn't read yet settled in my lap, and Crookshanks occupying the sunny patch on the seat across from me. All in all a perfect way to spend the trip home.

The door opened, and I looked up with irritation. Crookshanks hissed at Draco, and I glared.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

He smirked, and sat on the seat next to Crookshanks, ignoring the baleful glare my cat gave him. "Why should I, Granger? You are so easy to wind up, after all. Why should I waste the energy to locate some hapless first year?"

"Perhaps because it would have taken less energy than I'm sure it took you to find where I was sitting?" I said acidly. "And a first year is more likely to run off in tears than give you a black eye. Not to mention, none of them don't have a cat who's part Kneazle and hates you."

Draco's gaze slid over to where Crookshanks was sitting beside him, and inched away sideways. Not so cocky when there's a murderous glare in his direction from something he can't reason with. Or charm, or bully.

I smiled sweetly at Draco, and he began to look a bit nervous. Let's see how long it takes me to drive him out of my compartment. I want to read my book in peace.

"Of course, you could be here for another reason, now that I think a moment. After all, it wouldn't be the first time you were looking to be alone with me." My smile widened. "I wonder, are you looking for a matching handprint, or something more lasting?"

He scowled, and glared at me. "Very amusing, Granger."

"Actually, from here, it is. You are, after all, so easy to wind up."

Draco's eyes narrowed at getting his words thrown back in his face, but to give him credit, he didn't leave. "You and the wonder duo have a singular talent to irritate me, Granger. Nothing you ever do is wrong in the eyes of that simpleton Headmaster. You get away with breaking the rules, you have the whole school all but worshipping the ground you walk on. Even members of my own House!"

I snorted. I wished I lived in the world Draco's imagined I did. I might actually have enough people in the compartment I wouldn't be having this conversation with him. Bloody prat.

"You really have a skewed view of the world, Malfoy. If the other students were really that devoted to all three, do you really think you'd be sitting here talking to me?" I smiled bitterly. "Maybe they're worshipping the hero-glow from Harry, but I really doubt it's anything more than that."

Draco raised an eyebrow, staring at me. "I'm shocked, Granger. Not defending your precious Potter and his sidekick?"

"Why should I?" I held his gaze. "Don't think you can get away with calling them names, though, Malfoy. But I'm not going to defend people who are perfectly capable of defending themselves, were they here."

Truth is, I'm sick of defending them when they do nothing but snub me and treat me like everything that happened since they rescued me from the troll in first year never did. I have better things to do. Like get Draco out of my compartment so I can read my book in peace.

"Honestly, though, Malfoy, what are you doing here?" I waved a dismissive hand when he flashed a smirk, and started to open his mouth. "I know, you said it was because I was so easy to annoy. But you and I both know that's not the real reason. You never have just one reason to attempt making my life miserable."

"What, I don't succeed, Granger?" He gave me a mock-hurt expression.

I rolled my eyes. "No, Malfoy, you don't. I'd have to actually care what you think for your insults to hurt."

Draco didn't reply, and I frowned. He had a thoughtful expression on his face that I couldn't read. I didn't like it.

"What are you thinking, Malfoy?" I snapped, wondering how much trouble I'd get into if I simply hexed him and shoved him out of the compartment. It would be worth the trouble to get rid of the prat.

He shrugged, standing slowly. "It doesn't matter, Granger." Draco pulled a letter out of his pocket, and dropped it on my lap. "Mother wishes to see you, and she has once again insisted I give you the message instead of sending it directly to you." His cold gaze met mine. "I don't like Mother being interested in you, Granger."

He said nothing more, but swept out of the compartment, closing the door behind him.

I flung the message from Narcissa onto the seat across from me, and set my book aside. I wasn't going to be able to read any more of the book now. Not after the encounter with Malfoy.

* * *

As I stepped off the train, the first person I spotted was the last one I wanted to see. My jaw tightened at the sight of Narcissa Malfoy heading directly for me, with someone trailing behind her reluctantly.

"Hermione!" Narcissa smiled at me, her wand out to send my trunk and Crookshanks' basket to land neatly on a waiting trolley. "Leave those a moment, my dear, and come talk with me. Draco did give you the letter, I hope?" She raised an eyebrow, the smile never faltering.

"He did," I said evenly. "I haven't had the chance yet to read it, though. He only gave it to me on the train."

Narcissa's smile faltered a moment, and I saw annoyance flicker in her eyes before she ruthlessly clamped down on her emotions. "I shall have to speak to him about that later. But no matter."

She pulled the person who had been following her around her to face me. I raised an eyebrow at the sheepish expression on Lisette's face. I hadn't expected to see her again after the Christmas holiday.

"Hello," Lisette said quietly. I wondered why she was here with Narcissa, and why Lucius wasn't with them.

"Lucius is keeping Bella and Rudy entertained at the moment. They don't know where Lisette is at the moment, and we wish to keep it that way."

I frowned, raising an eyebrow at Lisette. "Why?"

"Aunt Cissa and Uncle Lucius are helping me run away from my parents for the summer." Lisette smiled wanly, and I could see the fear in her eyes. "If they find out where I am, they'll kill me. But I can't stay with them. Tomas doesn't have to stay with them, since he's reached his majority, but they can still insist I stay."

"Oh." I pressed my lips together, trying to think of how to politely word a refusal. I liked Lisette, but I didn't want to put my parents at risk.

I was saved from having to answer by someone clattering off the train behind me. I turned to look, and began to chew on my lower lip when I saw Ginny. It would be almost more of a problem to explain this all to her than it would to tell Narcissa I couldn't invite Lisette to stay the summer.

"Hey, Hermione." Ginny smiled at me, and I had the distinct impression she'd been noisy on purpose. She could have overheard this all anyway, and I wouldn't have to explain. Not this situation, anyway. She'd likely ask why Narcissa was asking for my assistance at some point.

Her gaze slid from me to Narcissa and Lisette. "Lisette. Mrs. Malfoy," she said evenly. "Where are the boys?"

The scandalized expression on Narcissa's face was priceless, for the few brief seconds it was there. I almost wished Colin was there with his camera. Almost.

"Draco has yet to step off the train," Narcissa replied as she drew an almost visible cloak of haughty superiority around her, "as you might notice, and Lucius is otherwise occupied."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Otherwise occupied?"

When Narcissa didn't respond, Ginny tilted her head towards me. "If you don't fill me in on what's going on, I'll make Hermione tell me."

Lovely woman. Just draw Narcissa's attention back to me. I wanted _out_ of the situation, not further embroiled in it.

Narcissa gave me a sharp look, and I shrugged, as if I didn't care. It would be nice not to get further involved in this, and leave it to Ginny to sort out, but that would hardly be productive.

"Aunt 'Cissa, she's family." Lisette spoke quietly. "Mother would expect me to go to someone who is family. And I don't want her to find me. Or those who are helping me."

Ginny blinked, and motioned for Lisette to continue. As the silence stretched out, she clicked her tongue impatiently. "I'm not a gossip, and I bloody know that dirty laundry does not get aired in public. As well as the idea that family takes care of family. So why are you going to Hermione about a problem with a relative before coming to someone who's actually related to you?"

I replied for them, when Lisette gave me an agonized look, and Narcissa merely pressed her lips to a thin line. "They don't want to take it to someone in the family because it might get back to Bellatrix, or so I have the impression their reasoning goes." I glared briefly at Narcissa, who chose that moment to become interested in who was coming off the train. "They have to find someplace for Lisette to stay for the summer. She's running away from her parents, since they decided they wanted to actually be her guardians for the summer."

"Such lovely people, the Lestranges are," Ginny said dryly. "And for a problem with such a simple solution, you're going through an awful lot of trouble. She can stay with me. I'll convince mum it's a good idea, and her parents won't find her. Will they, Hermione?" She raised an eyebrow at me, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

If she was thinking what I was, no one would find Lisette other than members of the Order. That would make life very easy. I wouldn't have to put my parents in danger, and it would provide Lisette an opportunity to get to know some family I suspected she'd had little contact with except for Easter picnics at Meri's home.

Narcissa looked skeptical, and I put on a reassuring smile. "Lisette will be perfectly safe, Mrs. Malfoy." I paused, a thought coming to mind. "Where do you want us to bring her at the end of the summer? She's not going to Hogwarts, so…"

"Actually, Bella has decided Lisette will be attending Hogwarts for her sixth and seventh years," Narcissa interrupted me, a slight frown on her face. "She's asked Lucius and I to make the arrangements, of course, as she and Rudy are persona non grata at Hogwarts."

"Of course." I sighed. "Then we'll just bring her with us when we come here on September first. It won't be a problem."

"Than that's settled." Ginny looped her arm through Lisette's, and pulled her along towards an island of red hair that marked where the Weasleys were gathering. I watched her vanish into the crowd, wishing I could follow, and be welcomed there, but I doubted they'd want me around, after the events of the past year.

"I expect your parents will be waiting for you, Hermione," Narcissa said tightly, interrupting my thoughts. "I should expect you'll want to see them again, after being away from them for so long."

I gave her an annoyed look. "They'll wait a little longer. I have people to say goodbye to before the summer holidays." I grabbed the trolley with my belongings, and started into the crowd, heading for the barrier, for all that I had said I wouldn't. I slowed as I drew close to the knot of Weasleys, hoping that maybe I could join them, for at least a brief moment.

Ginny turned, and caught my eye, shaking her head slightly, while mouthing, "Later." I could see Ron just beyond her, giving Lisette a distrustful look, and Harry beside him, his green eyes scanning the crowd. They fell on me a moment, and he raised an eyebrow, as if asking if I had something I wanted to talk about.

Clenching my jaw, I turned away, marching out through the barrier to my waiting parents. I was looking forward to a summer vacation without cold glares and arrogant prats.


	7. Dangerous Choices and Lethal Decisions

**Chapter 7 – Dangerous Choices and Lethal Decisions**

Oh, to have the innocence of that summer back! A chance to enjoy myself, without worries or responsibilities. Even if I didn't take that opportunity, I had it. Many times since then, I've wished I did. Ignored the homework for once, and simply gone out and enjoyed myself with my parents, and with my friends, those that I had left.

That innocence ended in August that summer. A dark bloody month full of death and destruction. A month so many of us wish we could erase, or prevent. Even the one who instigated it all has his regrets, though not nearly as many as the rest of us. I can hear Tom grumbling about it behind me. He doesn't want me to record it, even though I must.

After all, I can't let the Ministry's policy of keeping the darkest of events swept und the carpet, and hidden from the public become my policy. I set out to record the most important events of our time, and my journey – as I've heard Sirius call it from time to time – into the darkest circles of society. No matter how painful, no matter how dark the subject.

Or how dark the reasons behind the events. And the reasons behind the events of August of 1997 were dark as the shadows that gathered around Tom and his closest companions. There are many times that I regretted becoming involved in the whole mess, but now, I only regret I didn't tell someone this story sooner. Perhaps, then, the consequences might have been less severe in the end.

* * *

"Hermione, you have an owl!"

I looked up from the essay I as working on, smiling at mum a moment. Behind her, at the kitchen window, was perched an irritated barn owl, with a roll of parchment tied to its foot. It was too normal an owl to be from the Weasleys or the Malfoys, Harry wasn't speaking to me, and I'd already received the letter from Hogwarts with the supplies list for next year, and my notice that I was once again a prefect.

"Who else would be writing me?" I muttered as I stood, collecting the letter from the owl, feeding it a piece of bacon from my breakfast before it flew off.

The heavy parchment was sealed in silver wax with a snake pressed into it. I slid a thumbnail under it, unrolling the parchment with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Who's it from, dear?" Mum was looking at the letter curiously.

The only thing on the parchment was an elaborately illuminated 'LV', and I paled. There was only one person I'd knew who'd use those initials, and I hadn't had contact with Voldemort since Christmas. Not that he'd paid attention to my existence then. Why was I receiving a letter from him?

"Hermione?" Mum's concerned voice snapped me out of incipient panic, and I smiled reassuringly.

"Oh, just a friend from school." I carefully rolled the parchment up, and started gathering the materials I'd been using to work on my essay. "An invitation to a party. Nothing serious."

Except that the letter was from Voldemort, and therefore _was_ serious. No matter what the content proved to be – and I was certain it was more than an illuminated monogram.

"Another party?" Mum raised an eyebrow. "When's this one?"

"August," I said quickly. "I don't even know if I'll go or not." I grabbed the last book, and hurried out of the kitchen before mum could ask any more questions. I needed to find out what was written in that letter.

Once in my room, I locked and warded the door, unrolling the parchment once more. Instead of the monogram, now there was a brief note.

__

Hermione Granger,

You are expected at Black Estate at midnight 31 July. Absence will not be tolerated, and will result in fatal consequence for yourself and your family. Come alone, and tell no one of the contents of this note, nor where you are going or when.

Lord Voldemort

My hands were trembling when I finished reading the note, and I set it down on my desk. Bloody bastard! I was supposed to be at 12 Grimmauld Place that day for Harry's birthday. A surprise birthday party that I'd have to find an excuse to miss.

And what was I going to tell them? I couldn't say that Ri had insisted I visit, nor Meri, with how close those two were. It would let people know where I would be. And my parents had been glad to see I hadn't been cut off entirely from my friends when Ginny came to the house to recruit me to help. So no sudden vacation plans with them.

Anything else I could think of would probably be regulated to the 'not important enough to miss the party' category. And I wanted to go to Harry's party. Show him, that for all that the mess that had been going on the past year, he was still my friend, and I didn't want to shut him out completely. At least he hadn't been making nasty remarks about me behind my back, like Ron had on several occasions. Loudly and obnoxiously.

"Three days," I muttered to myself, "to find an excuse _not _to be at 12 Grimmauld Place when Harry's supposed to be arriving. To _not_ be celebrating the birthday of someone who was once my best friend."

I shook my head as I made my way down the stairs, sitting on the couch in the parlor. Crookshanks was on the end, and I reached out to pick him up, and yelped when he scratched my hand, hissing at me.

"What was that for?" I glared at Crookshanks as I pulled my handkerchief out, using it to stop the bleeding. He'd never reacted like that to anyone but Malfoy and his cronies before. And Pettigrew.

I scowled, clenching my jaw as I stood up. So my cat thought I was untrustworthy? Bloody hell, who was I supposed to talk to, if I couldn't talk to my cat? If I told anyone else, it could get back to the Ministry, or Dumbledore, or Voldemort. Probably get back to Voldemort anyway, if it got to the Ministry. And then I'd loose mum and dad. Not a prospect I liked.

"Thank you ever so much for the vote of confidence, Crookshanks," I hissed, before stalking towards the door. Perhaps a walk would clear my thoughts. "I'm going to go for a walk, mum! I'll be back for dinner!"

Picking streets at random, I made my way into London, letting my thoughts wander. I had to find something to do about the invitation – more veiled threat – from Voldemort, and Harry's party. If I ignored the threat, and went to the party, I ran the high risk of loosing my parents, and eventually, my life. If I went to the Black Estate, as the letter demanded, I'd loose any chance at making Harry see that no matter what secrets I had, I still considered him a friend. Maybe not a best friend anymore, but a friend.

I looked up at the street signs as I turned onto a quiet street, and paused, tilting my head. I'd memorized maps of London, and I never recalled seeing 'Ynvisib Alley' on any of them. "So, what are you?" I said quietly, looking down the street.

Cottages were set back from the road in overgrown gardens, with low dry-stone walls between them, and graveled paths leading to the front doors. On the right side of the street, a few houses down, was a park, complete with a playground and happily shrieking children.

I sat down on a bench, pretending I didn't notice the odd looks I was getting from the witches watching their children. I know Muggle clothing would make me stand out, but at the moment, I just wanted to look at this scene of carefree children, and happy parents.

"Hermione?"

So much for illusions of normalcy.

I turned my head to look up at Remus, giving him a brittle smile. I wish I had seen him earlier, so I could have gone elsewhere to think.. "Hello, Remus."

He sat down on the bench beside me, his eyes straying to the children with a wistful expression. "What brings you here, to this hidden corner of the world?"

I followed his gaze, to the children who played on swings and slides and jungle-gyms like Muggle children would. "Just walking, and thinking. I didn't know this place existed. No one talks about it."

"Most people don't know it's here, if they don't live here." I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye. "But that's not what's really on your mind, is it?"

I gave him a sharp look. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you smell angry and frightened and confused. Not exactly the emotions one expects from someone finding this street." He paused, raising an eyebrow in question. "Anything you want to talk about?"

I sighed. "I wish I could."

Though why couldn't I? He knew I had met Voldemort, and he wouldn't tell anyone that. He knew Meri was a Death Eater, but he'd never told anyone. Not in however long he'd known, and I suspected that was an open secret in his family. He could even betray Ri, and be hailed as a hero, but he didn't.

"Perhaps somewhere else?" He smiled slightly, standing and offering me a hand up. "Where you aren't going to be overheard by those who shouldn't know?"

I accepted the hand up, and nodded. "That would be a good idea." I walked beside him down the street. "Do you live here?"

"In the house I was born in." Remus indicated a cottage that looked a little more run down than the rest, the garden a bit more overgrown. "My neighbors aren't fond of living next door to a werewolf, but they would rather a werewolf than someone new."

I followed Remus down the path, and into a small room with faded tapestries and wooden floors worn smooth by years of traffic. I could see several portraits along a hallway that led further into the cottage, probably relatives of his.

"Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" Remus waved me towards an overstuffed chair that faced a cold hearth.

I shook my head. "No, thank you." I perched on the edge, letting my eyes adjust to the lower light levels inside. "Do you have wards up on this place?"

Remus nodded, as he sat in the chair opposite mine. "To prevent the neighbors complaining about noise on the full moon. As well as to keep curious teens out who don't think about who they're disturbing."

I smiled, looking down at my lap. "Either that, or like Ron and Harry and me, don't think about what they're getting into."

Remus reached out a hand to touch mine. "What has you upset, Hermione?" I looked up to see his concerned expression. "I'm not going to tell anyone anything you tell me." A wry smile crossed his face. "If you want, you could relate it to the seal of the confessional."

I gave him a curious look. "Why do you say that?"

He leaned back again, shrugging. "I had time on my hands after I left Hogwarts. No one wanted to hire a werewolf, especially with Voldemort's reign of terror. I took some classes at a Muggle seminary. They didn't say anything about my condition, even though I told the priest in charge. And they never gave me any penance. I think they saw my condition as penance enough for just about anything I could do."

"I never knew you had an interest in religion." I shook my head. "But I never asked."

"No one does. Not a lot of people in the wizarding world care about Muggle religion. It's a concept they don't understand, the need for a faith in a higher power. After all, they've always had magic, and their faith that it makes them better than Muggles." Remus chuckled. "But we're getting off the subject."

"I know." I paused, looking at my hands again a moment. "I received a letter today. An invitation that was a threat to my parents and me if I didn't show up where it told me to and when it told me to."

"At the Black Estate, on Harry's birthday." Remus gave me a sympathetic look. "Aunt Meri has been ebullient about that for the last week. She's excited about something, though she won't tell me what. Says I'll probably ruin the surprise."

"You probably would." I shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I decide to do, I'm going to loose someone. Either I loose my parents, or I loose Harry completely."

Remus gave me a sharp look. "I wouldn't dismiss Harry completely, Hermione. He's more likely to forgive things than Ron." He paused. "Are you sure you don't want something to drink?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't know what to ask for, and I'm sure it will go straight to my head. I probably shouldn't have anything to drink, anyway. I'm probably going to have to Apparate home, so I'm not late for dinner."

Remus nodded. "A good idea, than, not to have a drink." He paused, a slight frown on his face. "Did the letter mention what to be wearing upon arrival?"

I shook my head, puzzled. "No. Why would it?"

"If they were expecting you to provide your own outfit, they probably would have mentioned what to wear in the note. The fact they didn't may be a relatively good sign."

"A good sign?" I stared at him. "How would that be a good sign?" Actually, if it might involve dealing with Meri or Narcissa 'helping' me pick an outfit, I'd consider it a _bad_ sign.

"They'll have an appropriate outfit waiting for you." Remus's expression said everything about what he thought of the Death Eaters idea of 'an appropriate outfit'. "It might be a good idea to go early, so you can change. I know Madame Black doesn't like to be kept waiting, and I doubt any of the rest of Aunt Meri's associates are any better at waiting."

"I don't even want to go." I scowled mutinously. Even more, I didn't want to go _early_. Not for this. But what other choice had they left me?

Remus gave me a sympathetic look. "I know, Hermione."

I sighed, resigning myself to dealing with whatever awaited me at Black Estate. "I can't let my parents suffer because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time last October." I settled further into the seat, the scowl still firmly in place. "Damn him. I wanted to go to Harry's party. It was a chance to show him I still cared. Even if he won't talk to me."

"If you would like, I can give him your regrets," Remus offered, though he didn't look as if he actually expected an affirmative response.

I shook my head. "No. If I can't apologize in person, I'd rather he not hear it from someone else. I'll send him a letter, or a note, but I won't make him hear it from someone else altogether."

And I knew what I write him, the injunction not to tell him be damned. That I'd been blackmailed into going somewhere else, or have my parents killed. That I couldn't say where without risking my parents lives. I could only hope he'd understand, and maybe forgive me. Or at the very least, quit acting like I was contaminated.

Remus smiled slightly. "I hope you have the chance to tell him what you've told me." He held up a hand to stall my protest. "I know, it's not likely to be anytime soon. But someday, you might have the opportunity." He leaned forward, holding my gaze. "And if you have it, use it. So that nothing is forgotten, even after this whole complicated tangle has been resolved, one way or another."

I nodded, intrigued by his intensity. I wondered if he'd been writing down everything people told him, making a record of what he knew of this mess. "If I have the chance, I will tell him. I promise."

Better yet, if I had the chance, I'd write down everything I could remember. It shouldn't just be Harry who knows this. The more people who know, the less likely it will be forgotten, and what better way to spread the story but to write it down? And this shouldn't be forgotten. There are so many lessons that could be learned from the lives of those who are involved in this. In their choices.

"Thank you, Remus." I stood, a smile on my face. Now, whatever happened, if I wrote this down, I could _know _someone would read it, could _know_ someone would remember all of this. For all the cold comfort that would provide when everything was bleak. "I really ought to be getting home. Mum said dinner would be early, and I don't know how long I've been out."

Remus had stood as I did, and walked with me to the door. "And you'll want to spend the time with your parents." He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Good luck, Hermione."

* * *

I gave the heavy doors that guarded the entrance to Black Estate a perfunctory glare as I lifted the heavy knocker. I hadn't let my parents know I was leaving before I'd Apparated, arriving at the end of the long drive of the house. They'd likely assume I'd gone to 12 Grimmauld Place to help get things ready for the party there.

I had, of course, tried to Apparate to the front door, but it appeared that it had anti-Apparition wards up all around the grounds, which wasn't common for a private residence. And then the walk up the three kilometer drive. No wonder Ri had a car! It wouldn't be worth it to Apparate to and from her estate.

The doors opened, and Ri smiled, though the expression brought little that suggested warmth to her expression. "You're early, Miss Granger. Excellent." She beckoned me to follow her up the broad marble stairs that split to lead to galleries paneled in dark wood, and carpeted with intricately patterned runners.

"I don't expect you will have appropriate attire for tonight. No one does, at their first meeting with the full Circle." She led me down the right hand gallery, to an age-darkened door at the end.

Inside the small room were several dummies holding robes in various stages of completion, as well as accessories for the outfits. She pointed her wand at one, bringing it forwards, the bone-white mask creepy in the flickering candle-light of the room.

"All of it is required, Miss Granger. When you have dressed, you are expected in the sitting room downstairs. I expect you remember where it is." She gave me a stern look. "And remember, no matter what the temptation to chatter, this is not a social event tonight. Those gathered in the sitting room are unlikely to appreciate any conversation prior to the meeting."

I nodded, resisting the urge to shiver. "Of course." Dealing with Ri on her own was like dealing with an avalanche. Impossible to avoid, and a chilling experience I wouldn't care to repeat.

She nodded with satisfaction, and closed the door behind her, leaving me with the dummies, and a new set of robes.

I shed my outer robes before examining the ones I was expected to wear. Plain, unrelieved black, except for the mask. A tunic-like under-robe and trousers that felt like cotton, thin silk gloves, and a hooded wool over-robe. No shoes, but the over-robe would go to the floor, and hide any shoes I might be wearing, so I expected they didn't care what your shoes were like, so long as they functioned.

It didn't take long to dress, and I carefully braided my hair before tucking it into the hood. The hallway outside was as dimly lit as the room, and I almost felt like creeping down it, shivering slightly from a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the house.

Downstairs it didn't take me long to find the sitting room, which held a handful of people, most of whom were in Death Eaters robes like I was. Impossible to recognize, unless the person spoke, or had some distinct physical feature. Like Pettigrew's silver hand.

The only person not in the robes was Sirius, sitting next to the fireplace with a scowl on his face. He was given a wide berth by the others, who appeared to have grouped themselves. Though why, when there were only seven of them, I hadn't a clue.

I settled into the chair next to Sirius, ignoring his angry glare, for the most part.

"I don't socialize with Death Eaters, so why don't you take a clue from your compatriots and leave me alone?" he snarled, returning his glare to the empty hearth when he saw it had no effect on me.

"Maybe because I'm only here because I was blackmailed," I said very quietly, not wanting to be overheard. "And I'm not a Death Eater."

"Could have fooled me." Sirius didn't bother to keep his voice down, and I winced as others turned to look, and to glare.

"You've been living with your aunt for over a year, Sirius. You know how pointless it can be to argue with her." Dangerous, too, which I expected he knew from personal experience.

He turned to look at me, his eyes cold. "You could have gone to Dumbledore, and asked him for help. You could have fought for what's right, instead of caving in to her demands. You're no better than that rat, a traitor to your friends…"

"Shut up!" I snarled, rising to my feet with my wand in hand. "Don't you lecture me on what you think I am, Sirius Black! You can't understand why I have done what I've done, and you don't even really know what I have done, and what I have not. Dumbledore couldn't have helped me when this all began, and he can't help me now. And as for _fighting for what is right_?" My eyes bored into his. "Don't tell me you're fighting for what's right. Don't _ever_ tell me the world is divided so neatly. It's not. There's no right or wrong. There's only your values, and how well you hold to them. Only a million shades of grey."

Life might have been easier if I had learned that lesson before last October. Life would be better, and easier indeed if Sirius looked as if he didn't believe what he was hearing from me in the least.

"Shades of grey?" He was on his feet as well, looming over me. "You think this is just a _shade of grey_?" He gestured with one hand to the room, and the house beyond. "This is a gathering of the darkest…"

"_Silencio!_" The spell hit both Sirius and me, halting the argument before it could escalate further.

Ri stood in the doorway, her expression dangerously calm. "This is not a barnyard gathering where you can fight like undisciplined children, nephew of mine. And though I might expect such behavior from you, Sirius, that does not mean I excuse it." She slowly walked towards us, the others in the room pressing back against the walls to stay as far from her as possible. "On the other hand, I had much higher expectations of you, girl. Perhaps it was too much to expect of a Mudblood."

I clenched my jaw, my eyes meeting hers as I mentally spoke the incantation to break the spell. Oh, how I _hated_ that word. Mudblood. All the hate and injustice and intolerance behind it that stretched back for centuries.

"Perhaps it was too much for me to think you were any better than every blind, stubborn idiot who accepts what someone else tells them as truth without question." My voice was low, and as controlled as Morigyn's. Not even she was going to make me look like a child. Not while I still was working under my own will.

She raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her eyes, as if this was all just a game. "Believe as you will, but don't have the arrogance to believe you are the first of impure blood to be given a chance to prove yourself, and fail."

I bristled, trying to keep firm control of my temper. I had never failed anything in my life. And although I could hear my conscious screaming that this would be something to fail, I wasn't going to back down from a blatant challenge like that. "I. Will. Not. Fail."

"We shall see." Morigyn smiled coldly at me before turning to Sirius, and directing him from the room. Where she took him, I never had a chance to find out, as Meri bustled in moments later, and directly over to me.

"Oh good, you're here. And Ri had the robes ready." She gave me a critical once-over. "Very good indeed. Have you eaten dinner yet?"

I shook my head. I had been too nervous to eat, and had a suspicion that anything I ate ran the risk of being seen again. Especially if their plans for the night involved anything that would make newspaper headlines.

Meri clucked disapprovingly, grabbing my elbow to guide me out of the room. "You need to eat before the meeting, Miss Granger. Even if it all comes back up later."

I halted, forcing her to stop. "Why would it all com back up?" I wasn't looking forward to seeing anything I ate twice, even if I knew that was a risk. And I'd have liked a warning about what I was going to be seeing here. Nothing pleasant, I was sure.

She gave me a sympathetic smile. "It's an initiation rite. There are bound to be some rather gruesome sights there. Tom thinks it is rather a good test of new recruits' resolve, and gives the established members a bit of a spectacle to watch. Oh, I know Min will not be there, nor will 'Cissa or Tasia, not until the meeting of the Inner Circle later. But no one in the full Circle would really wish for their choice not to attend. They, after all, don't have the sensitivities and loyalties that those ladies do."

Meri's comments didn't reassure me at all and my stomach started a slow churn that promised it would cause worse problems later. "I'm not hungry," I whispered, knowing my face behind the mask was very pale, and possibly even slightly green.

"Nonsense. You need to eat. Dry heaves are not something you care to experience, Miss Granger, I can tell you that." Meri gave me a steady look. "And it would necessitate you leaving the meeting, which would be very bad for you. Potentially lethal, which is certainly not the objective of the night."

"Than what would the objective be?" I demanded. "I'm sick of these games, Meri. Everyone thinks I am some sort of project for you, but no will tell me why. And what is s interesting about me that Mrs. Malfoy would invite me for Christmas holiday, and Voldemort apparently has taken a personal interest in me?"

Meri frowned, giving me a concerned look. "Why wouldn't they, my dear? You are the most intelligent and clever witch of your generation. Resourceful and quick to learn, if all that I have heard about you in school is true. Loyal to your friends, courageous and with a ferocity comparable to my Aunt Augustine. Rare enough to find these days, and very desirable. Poise under fire, graceful and gracious, as well. You are what every pure-blood mother wants her daughter to be, and what they want their son to marry."

"If I weren't a Muggle-born, you mean."

"Oh no!" Meri gave me a horrified look. "You must not think that, because it does not matter. You are above that. You are going to be the most sought after woman of your generation after tonight. They will know you are worthy, no matter your parentage."

"But if that is the case, why would it take this for them to see it?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "I shouldn't need somebody else's approval to be 'sought after'."

Meri smiled. "Oh, my dear, you are so very much like Min was in school. But so much more than she was. And it really doesn't matter if they seek after you, I is who you chose who will have the greatest honor. You can spurn them all, if you'd like, if they didn't notice you before this. But, my dear, do try to see this in the way we do. Launching the finest young woman of her age into the prominence she deserves. That's what we want for you. You have so much potential, and you deserve the chance to develop it." Meri smiled sadly. "How much of a chance were those friends of yours giving you to be what you desired to be? Just think on it, Hermione, while you eat."

* * *

Meri left me in the kitchen after a few brief instructions on what not to do while in the meeting, with strict instructions to the cook to make sure I ate. Mary was almost a mothering as Meri, and she chattered more than even Sephone had that first time I met Voldemort. It made the few hours I spent in the kitchen bearable.

Shortly before midnight, Meri came back into the kitchen, a mask dangling from the fingertips of one hand. "Come along, Miss Granger. The Circle is gathering in the ballroom, and you _must_ be there when the initiates are brought in." She was studying me critically again, and gave a brief nod of satisfaction as I slipped the mask back on. "There you go. Quite good, my dear. Now come along."

She led me through the corridors to a small room, which held a dozen people, including us, not all of whom were wearing their masks. I easily spotted Lucius Malfoy, and suppressed the urge to shake my head. That would be Draco standing beside his father, with a pale mask hiding his face, and Lucius's hand on his shoulder.

It wasn't long, fortunately, before a pair of double doors opened, and a masked figure nodded to Meri. She prodded me forward, past Draco, and into a ballroom full of Death Eaters. Except for a group of terrified people at one end who appeared to be mostly Muggles, with a handful of wizards and witches.

My eyes widened as I recognized some of them, and Meri's hand closed firmly over my arm. How had they gotten Mrs. Weasley, of all people? She almost never left 12 Grimmauld Place these days, and never alone. My stomach made an uneasy flip as I thought about what that could mean. How many of the Weasleys were already dead, for them to have Mrs. Weasley?

"Hold your tongue, girl." Morigyn's hand came down on my shoulder, the woman on the opposite side from Meri. "You can do nothing but earn them a slower and more painful death."

I clenched my jaw, my eyes remaining fixed on Mrs. Weasley. Someone was bound to notice my absence and her disappearance coincided, and that I returned, and she did not. There was no doubt in my mind now about that scenario being the most likely. And what consequences would follow that? Azkaban, if I was unlucky, certainly. I wouldn't have the chance to finish my seventh year, or take my NEWTS, certainly. No, no, no. This was not _fair_. And I wanted someone to answer for that.

Except for the terrified whimpers from the people at the end of the room, and my own thoughts loud in my head, I didn't hear anything. There was a sense of anticipation hanging in he air, with Voldemort not having arrived, and the Inner Circle probably scattered among the rest, hidden by their masks.

A sharp crack drew screams from the Muggles, as Voldemort Apparated into the center of the room. No doubt from somewhere else in the house, though why he had to indulge in such drama, I didn't understand. Every bloody Death Eater attack screamed of the same sense of overblown drama, like some American movie.

Voldemort scanned the crown, appearing to meet everyone's eyes, and I could sense the rising excitement among the Death Eaters. Like a huge party. Which it was, I suppose.

"Tonight, my loyal servants, you will welcome new members into you ranks!" At least he gets straight to the point. Though I would rather not be joining this group. I had my whole life ahead of me, and no intention of spending it in Azkaban, thank you very much.

Four people were prodded forward into the center by the Death Eaters escorting them, and I thought Meri or Morigyn would do the same for me. Why they didn't, I hadn't a clue, though I wasn't the only one who wasn't being initiated tonight that wasn't already a Death Eater. There had, after all, been six of us in the sitting room, and only four were up there. Who else wasn't up there?

Voldemort was surveying the four recruits, his red eyes gleaming. "You will each be expected to complete your initiation, or your bodies will join the rest." He paused, pinning each of them beneath his stare a moment. "I should hope you are capable of doing that," he added, in a cruel tone.

The death threat would certainly be incentive not to fail, and I was rather glad I wasn't up there with them after all. But what did he intend as the initiation?

A Death Eater grabbed one of the Muggles, hauling her towards the recruits. That answered my question, to some extent. But did they plan to torture them, or just, mercifully, kill them?

Behind my mask, I closed my eyes, wishing I could do the same for my ears. Why did they want me to witness this… spectacle of pointless violence?

Morigyn's fingers dug into my shoulder, and she whispered harshly into my ear, "Watch. Remember. And one day, understand."

Understand what? That the Death Eaters viewed Muggles as less than human? Things to play with and then discard like a child's broken toy?

I opened my eyes when the pain from Morigyn's grip became unbearable, and bit back the urge to retch. The Muggle woman was writhing on the floor under the wand of a Death Eater – not one of the recruits, thankfully – her voice gone horse from screaming.

The rest of the initiation passed in a blur of sound and images that I refused to process, while I fought to keep my dinner in my stomach, as light as it had been. I almost didn't notice when silence descended again, except for the fact that people were moving. The bodies were removed, and the wizarding folk brought forward to be forced to their knees before Voldemort.

There was Mrs. Weasley, her hair mussed, and a defiant expression on her face. A woman who looked like she was related to Narcissa and Bellatrix – she had to be Andromeda, the third sister. A teenage boy I recognized as a Ravenclaw third-year named Stuart Ackerly, and a man who tried to stay close to him was probably his father or an older brother. And the last one looked like he was related to Neville.

Morigyn let go of my shoulder then, moving towards the captives like a cat stalking prey. She wasn't the only one who came forward, and I was sure that at least one of them was Bellatrix. The one who backhanded Andromeda, to be precise, and was hissing obscenities at her.

I ignored them for the most part, unable to tear my attention away from Mrs. Weasley as Morigyn circled her, my focus narrowing to the two women.

"I've waited for this for many years, Molly." Morigyn's voice was almost pleasant, if you could ignore the edge of menace to it. "You never should have married any of my relatives, distant as they are, if you expected to live. Not with those brothers of yours. Gideon and Fabian, if I remember correctly." She paused. "I must say, you have proven more difficult to catch up with than they were. Most impressive, for a Gryffindor of your sort."

"And you're not." Mrs. Weasley kept her chin up, her eyes holding Morigyn's steadily. Even though she had to know she wouldn't survive the night. "Not even for a Death Eater."

Morigyn chuckled. "I don't try to be, my dear Molly." She paused before whispering a curse I didn't recognize with evident delight.

I didn't even recognize the language the curse was in , but I flinched as Mrs. Weasley began to convulse a few moments later, her skin appearing to move of its own accord. As if on the backs of millions of worms.

My stomach was churning, and I was positive I was green behind my mask when Mrs. Weasley finally began to scream. I closed my eyes firmly at that point, clenching my hands into fists as I struggled against the urge to bolt. That, I was sure, would merely result in them finding my body alongside Mrs. Weasley's and the rest. And I had no desire to die now, anymore than I liked the idea of spending the rest of my life in Azkaban, if someone in the wrong position found out I had been here.


End file.
